


We Don't Drink Until the Devil's Turned to Dust

by VaellintheBard



Series: Redeye Roast [1]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anxiety Attacks, Chloe KNOWS, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Flashbacks, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Lucifer Opens a Coffee Shop, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Season/Series 03, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Lucifer, Protective Trixie Decker, Rating May Change, Slow Romance, Tags May Change, Time Skips, Trixie finds out, hell loops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2020-02-26 17:05:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 37
Words: 136,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18721312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VaellintheBard/pseuds/VaellintheBard
Summary: The face of the Devil is a shock to anyone who sees it, including Detective Chloe Decker. However, when she's the one person who has won over that very Devil, her rejection of who he is hits hard. Still, no one expects him to disappear for six years.Trixie Decker finds herself in a situation of worrying over her sick mother and the return of the missing Lucifer. Sworn to secrecy, the young teenager has to figure out how to help them both, but whatever happened in those missing six years has left Lucifer damaged, possibly beyond repair.Updates Thursdays and Sundays





	1. He's not here

**Author's Note:**

> This is NOT complete. It's being odd and not giving me the multi chapter option (though it allows me to add chapters). Could be due to the device I'm using (my tablet over my computer)
> 
> Wanted to get this chapter dropped off before season 4 comes out, though I guess that puts it in an awkward position. It's deliberately WAY off the beaten path, going a direction I know the show won't go, though I'm doing my best to keep things in character! My first Lucifer fic, so this'll be fun. Prepare for a lot of drama! I have the first four or five chapters planned out, so hopefully it won't be too long between them, though I still have to finish the final chapter of another fic first. Anyway, I hope you enjoy. It's a fair bit of Trixie and Lucifer throughout the story.

One month had past since Chloe's world fell apart. It started when Charlotte was shot by Pierce--a criminal mastermind who she once thought she loved. Following that, Pierce was killed in an act of vengeance, though paperwork said self-defense. The fact that Lucifer himself never said the words "self-defense" was more telling that he at least didn't perceive it as such. So one month ago, Chloe lost a good friend to a former lover, then said former lover to a... Well whatever Lucifer and her had been then. And they discovered corruption in the police force, through Charlotte's research, and broke down a majority of the Sinnerman network, through a plea deal with Pierce's former point man. 

Honestly, it was a lot. And yet it failed to compare to one major detail. That her partner hadn't been lying, hadn't been talking in metaphors, hadn't been delusional. All this time. He had the truth shown to her, given proof of divinity, god, heavens, and angels.

Lucifer was the actual, biblical Devil.

Chloe wasn't an idiot. She knew that didn't mean he was evil. She'd spent enough time with him to remember his distaste at being called evil, how he perceived himself as a monster and grieved when he believed he wronged someone. No, he wasn't evil incarnate. But he did punish evil. And, judging by the way he reacted to blood, injuries, bodies, while describing particularly disturbing methods of torture, he was violent, tormenting about it. 

And he took joy in it, didn't he? Wasn't that was he said when he questioned his own reasoning--a few times, actually--for helping the police out? He punished evil, he was good at it. Why continue if you didn't want to?

Except, every bit of that didn't line up with what she saw in the man she called her partner. He was violent, short tempered, and apathetic at times, but he was by no means someone who actually enjoyed hurting people. If she fished for a word to apply to what he did enjoy, besides the obvious, it'd be justice. Righting the wrongs that'd been met on humanity as best he could. As if he had to make up for the wrongs he'd committed.

So, he wasn't evil, Chloe concluded. He didn't enjoy punishing evil, though he was good at it. Instead he hated evil, worried he was evil, and sought justice for the innocent.

Too bad it had taken Chloe one month to figure this out. One month where she and Lucifer shared little more than strained greetings until eventually Lucifer stopped altogether, just nodding a hello with a tight smile. And three days ago, he stopped showing up entirely.

That wasn't uncommon, since he really only showed up to play or help on a case and she technically had none at the moment, but since the incident with Pierce he'd been showing up every day. For statements, for evidence, to say 'hi' and check on everyone. Then he turned to Chloe to ask her if she was still drowning in paperwork, or something surely witty, and she froze. Terrified again as she had been since she saw that face-- _his_ face. This had been while she was working out whether he enjoyed torturing people, so for a brief moment his smile seemed sinister.

The smile vanished instantly and Lucifer turned briefly away, adjusting his cuffs absently before facing her again with no emotion. "I understand. Apologies, Detective. I'll head home for now." He hesitated and gave a quick, sad smile that broke her heart and later helped her come to her conclusion. "Just, be kind to Mazikeen. She was already mad enough at me the first time." Then he left.

And never returned.

Three days past for her to come to her conclusion, but calling Lucifer resulted in nothing. Expressing her concerns to Dan turned into a wasted effort. He simply reminded her of his two week disappearance, of Lucifer's habit of following her like a dog even when she didn't want him to. Talking to Ella was worse as the girl pointed out Chloe's obvious rejection of Lucifer, asking what caused her to treat Lucifer in such a way.

"Not that I judge," Ella had explained, eyes glued to a microscope. "You usually have your reasons. Lucifer just kind of looked like a kicked puppy whenever you did that. Whatever he did must've been really terrible. If so, he'll find some weird way to apologize when he comes back, or just come back as if nothing happened." The scientist gazed at Chloe, seeing the guilt painted on the detective's face. "Or... Not? Well, if you're the one at fault maybe go to him? Apologize for hurting him?"

Which she would if he'd pick up his damn phone. Ella was right, though. Chloe had to go to Lucifer, face him and apologize for taking so long to remember her partner was still exactly what she thought he was. A good man.

Or Devil, rather.

Maybe slightly different from what she thought he was.

*

The ride up to the penthouse, with a Lucifer missing, always churned her stomach. Ever since his first trip to Vegas, the elevator brought a certain amount of tension to the detective. On days when she was looking for her partner, it was worse. Her fear that she'd ruined everything left her almost crippled.

When she reached the penthouse, she almost breathed a sigh of relief at the fact that not only were there no covers on the furniture, but there was someone there. One arm was flung onto the back of the couch, obviously feminine but Chloe didn't care. If Lucifer found some one night stand to help him get through Chloe's rude treatment, then she'd get over it. There being someone meant Lucifer was likely here.

"Lucifer?" she called out to the penthouse, too awkward to confront the woman on the couch.

"He's not here, Decker," grumbled the woman and the detective felt her heart sink.

"Maze" she greeted. The hand flicked a half-hearted wave in response. "Where is he?"

"He went home. Bastard even had the nerve to leave me behind without asking. Not that I want to go now, but the least he could do was invite me. Or not destroy the good stuff on his way out." Mazikeen sat up with a huff, raising a scarred eyebrow at Chloe.

Decker examined the room for a moment, realizing what Maze meant.. His shelf of top end whiskey was either drained or shattered, sometimes both, though somehow the damage had been contained to just that section. Stepping towards the mess, she frowned as she spotted something familiar, blinking with missed calls and messages. Picking up the phone, Decker joined Maze in the main room, taking up an armchair. "Home?" she asked after a long, uncomfortably quiet moment.

"Obviously not here. Hell," Maze mumbled in her typical blase tone, drinking from a flask. _His_ flask. "Fuck if I know why. I haven't seen him since... Well it's been a while. So how about, you Decker? What have you been up to? Any clues why our inconsiderate idiot left?"

Decker swallowed around her lump in her throat. The way Mazikeen talked made it obvious that the woman--demon--had no idea that Lucifer had revealed himself to her. _She's a demon, a torturer_ , a part of her argued, but this time Chloe could recover more quickly, using her 'Lucifer logic' as a bouncing off point. Yes, she was a demon and she probably did enjoy torturing people, had even confessed as much and never hid it, but she was driven with a single-mindedness that lent itself to also be protective, viciously so, of her friends. Hadn't she returned, after all, when given the option to escape all of her pains?

"Decker?" Maze asked, interrupting her thoughts. "You there?"

Chloe nodded, roughly. "Yeah, sorry, I was just thinking. I think he left... Because I hurt him." Confessing it made tears well up in her eyes, but she stubbornly kept them back. "He saved me. And I rejected him."

The demon snorted. "If that's all, then he'll be back soon. Not like this hasn't happened before. He's just a drama queen." The demon stood up and stretched. "Anyway, I heard you guys took care of Pierce. Thanks, I guess. I would've done it, but the bastard got the jump on me."

The detective watched Mazikeen leave, questions about _that_ statement flittering through her mind, but her focus mostly on the dreaded feeling that Maze was wrong. Yes, she rejected him before and Lucifer had definitely saved her before, but this was different. She'd never rejected _him_. It may be a long while before she saw him again. If ever.

Six years made her believe that she never would.

* Six Years Later *

There was always something about the beach that Trixie loved. It made her feel lonely, but at the same time connected to more than just herself. Especially at night, when the stars peaked through the light pollution of the city, just far enough from its center to get a handful of them.

Today, she found peace in the crashing of the waves and slight chill. Her fifteenth birthday was coming up, but she didn't want any gifts. At least not in the physical sense. What she wanted was miracle, but for now she'd settle for peace of mind.

She'd been alone on the beach for the better part of an hour, shivering slightly with fear and the night air pressing against her exposed arms. Perhaps a dress hadn't been the best idea to travel the sands in, even if she dangled her heels in one hand. The cracking of wood behind her confirmed her concerns--a dress was hard to fight in--as she spun around to face what had joined her on the beach, free hand tugging out the knife strapped to her leg for protection. Holding it before her, she scanned the dark landscape.

"Well, maybe if you didn't try to attack me every step of the way, we would've landed safely!" boomed a man, voice deep and familiar. Trixie crept closer, squinting her eyes at the piles of driftwood. One seemed to be glowing slightly, though the light vanished shortly after she saw it.

"I didn't ask you to fly me anywhere, Brother!" snarled another man. This time the familiarity was obvious, causing the teen to drop her knife with a gasp. "If you'd listened to me, you wouldn't have had to land at all, at least not with me in tow."

"Oh, yeah, because you were doing just fine in Hell," the first man growled. Amenadiel, Trixie remembered. Lucifer's brother. He'd been missing longer than her mother's former partner. "Trapped in a Hell Loop. Lord of Hell reduced to a crumbling heap of guilt. Just. Fine."

Silence fell between the two men as Beatrice stepped onto the first log, Lucifer obviously conceding the point but unwilling to vocalize it. Neither seemed to notice her, focused on each other. Both looked about the same as Trixie's memories could recall. Amenadiel was wearing some weird dress and stood with confidence over a collapsed Lucifer, but his features and gentle awkwardness remained plain on his face. Lucifer still wore his three-piece suit, though it seemed to have seen better days. As had his hair, which appeared disheveled and curly. He faced down, balanced on his knees and gazing at his hands as if searching for answers in them, or seeing something on them no one else saw. 

Realizing they were too absorbed in their conversation to notice her, Trixie cleared her throat, pulling both men's eyes to her. Amenadiel winced, holding out a hand to placate her. "Miss, please do not freak out. We are not here to bother you."

"Be not afraid," Lucifer scoffed before studying the young woman and his expression turned soft and haunted. "Spawn?"

Amenadiel tossed a confused look at his brother before it clicked and he widened his eyes at the teenager. "Trixie?"

"Hi, Lucifer. Hi, Amenadiel. How have you two been?" Trixie asked as casually as one could to two men who had been missing for six years before deciding to pop up randomly on a beach.

Instead of answering, Amenadiel's face stretched into a grin, with a touch of nervousness lurking in his eyes. "This is perfect. Trixie, could you take us to visit your mother?"

The teen didn't miss Lucifer's wild look he threw at his brother, but she also didn't care. The sinking feeling that she'd been trying to lift by visiting the beach returned. Shifting uncomfortably in the sand, she sighed. "Mom's in the hospital."


	2. You and I are of the same mind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! Hopefully this'll fix the chapter issue.
> 
> Also, I forgot to mention last time, but if you're curious the title of the story actually comes from a song. "We don't eat" by James Vincent McMorrow. A great song and very applicable. I recommend checking it out.
> 
> Also, also, the story will have a flashback at the beginning of each chapter to help fill in the blanks, usually related to what happened either at the end of the previous chapter, or to the current one.

**Chloe swayed slightly, the pain in her head drumming relentlessly and blurring her vision. She slowed, leaning against the wall for a brief moment. Officer Trent stopped beside her, speaking to her out of concern. At least, she was pretty sure he was worried; his tone came off as such. However, the words that reached her ears sounded like gibberish. Blinking rapidly to clear her vision, Chloe grunted in vague affirmation before waving him to go on ahead. Words wouldn't come to her; it was too hard to think of them. If only this damn headache would go away. Persistent pain had been her partner for the past week or so. Maybe months?**

**She needed time off. The stress was getting to her. That had to be it. Between her recent break up and Trixie's teenage rebellion kicking off--made worse by having a demon as one of her best friends--Chloe just needed to get away from it. She needed to relax with a book and spend time with herself, and Trixie of course. Then this damned migraine would go away.**

**Pressing a hand to her head, as if it could banish the other pressure that attacked internally, Chloe pushed off of the wall. Once this case was over and the criminal apprehended she'd put in a request for PTO and everything would be settled.**

**As she trotted down the hallway in pursuit of their suspect and her partner, however, dizziness overwhelmed her and she swayed again, slumping to the ground to regain her balance. Somewhere in the distance she heard a cry of "Detective!", the accent distinctly British and also imaginary. Her head refused to follow logic, though, as it produced the illusion of familiar hands grabbing her as she collapsed, worry in her voice.**

**Hadn't this happened before? Many years ago, involving poison. But her partner--her real one--wasn't here, wouldn't be here to save the day and then vanish as he had before. He wouldn't even be here to make things worse, and force Chloe to push aside her problems to finish the one in front of her.**

**He'd left and even half a decade didn't erase the pain. Her vision darkened as her consciousness faded, leaving the vague concern of what would happen to the people she left behind.**

*Six months later*

Visiting hours were over, but Beatrice had become such a regular they made an exception for her as she strolled down the sterile hallways as familiar to her as her own home. The hospital was cold in a way the beach wasn't--spiritually over a nice natural breeze. It smelled of chemicals instead of salt and seaweed, glowed dimly from florescent lights instead of the moon and the stars. She hated the place, but managed to stuff her hatred into the dark corners of her mind to focus instead on what really mattered. Usually that was her mother, but this time it was the quiet man behind her.

She had been a child when she last saw Lucifer--still was if her parents had anything to say about it--but it hadn't been so long that her memories faded. Lucifer was awkward with her at first, treating her like a pet in a way that amused more than insulted. As time went on, however, Trixie was sure that he'd opened up, found her someone he enjoyed hanging out with even if he never called her Trixie, her preferred nomination. "Spawn," "Offspring," and "Child" were most common; Beatrice on the rare occasion of severity was also used. He'd been a friend, considered an uncle of sorts. Perhaps a small part of her even counted him as almost a step-father, though that may have been born out of the fact she swore her mother and Lucifer were in love. Anyone with eyes could see how much they cared, how much they wanted to move closer only to be stopped by some invisible barrier.

The man she knew back then was gone. Habitual fidgeting, permanent smile or smirk, and nonstop talking--of things she didn't understand then and only kind of understood now--had all ceased, leaving a shell of the former club owner. Lucifer's eyes were pinned to Trixie's back or to the ground when people passed, and not a word had slipped out of his mouth since he'd uttered her nickname. He appeared apprehensive, as if he would run if he didn't know his brother would chase him down and drag him right back by the ear.

To think this was the man Trixie once thought was the Devil.

Pulling to a slow stop, she gestured to the room in front of her. "This is Mom's room," she explained. Lucifer turned dark eyes to the door, "Chloe Decker" written on the it with a blank slot for a potential roommate. Her last one left a couple days ago, being fortunate enough to have gotten better. That meant that her mother was alone, but not for long as hospitals appeared to be ever full.

Shifting and adjusting his sleeve unconsciously, Lucifer tossed the teen a smirk that didn't reach his eyes. "Do you think you could go first, Spawn? Let me know if she's awake or asleep." Sighing, Beatrice nodded and began to walk in, only stopping when Lucifer called for her. Facing those black eyes again, she listened as the man made one more request. "If she... If she is asleep, let her rest. Don't wake her."

Rolling her eyes this time, Trixie resumed checking in on her mother, though she caught a flicker of a smile from Lucifer for the gesture. A real one. "Mom?" she whispered into the room, hearing the unsettling and lifeless beeping of monitors. Regardless if her mother was conscious, it was debatable if she'd reply. Often, even awake her mother felt elsewhere. However, the gentle rise and fall of her mother's chest and the peacefully shut eyes indicated her sleeping. Trixie glanced back out, nodding to Lucifer. "She's asleep."

"Very well," the man replied, adjusting his sleeve again as he followed Beatrice inside. He scanned the room with a slight frown. Flowers littered the window, enough to bring life to the area but not as many as when she'd first arrived. Chloe had been here long enough that it had a few personal effects as well: photos, a few pieces of jewelry, a small selection of trinkets and one item that seemed to pull Lucifer towards it. He lifted the phone, sliding it open easily as it was unlocked. 

Trixie knew what he saw. It was, after all, his phone. A relic by now, with no service and only the messages and pictures from before he left remaining. He held it in his hand with a mixture of confusion, regret, and awe on his face. Scrolling through the contents created a strange sort of silence, punctuated only by the machines keeping her mother stable and the breathing of the three people in the room. After a few minutes, Lucifer finally broke through the quiet atmosphere. "How long?" he asked, eyes locked on the phone.

Trixie shrugged. "Mom picked the phone a little after you left, supposedly. She just never gave it back." But kept it charged so she could glimpse at the contents every so often. Less often as the years went on, until recently where her confinement to her bed brought a new sort of restlessness.

"Not the phone, Spawn," Lucifer stated, though his lips twitched with a brief smile. "How long has..." He trailed off momentarily as if trying to figure out what he wanted to say. "How long has your mother been unwell?"

Beatrice frowned, the weight of her situation settling on her shoulders like a familiar burden. It may not have been the world but to the fourteen year old it was more than enough to drag her down. "She's been in the hospital for about six months. Off and on the first couple until she couldn't even stand." Tears began to well up but Trixie fought them back. She was tired of crying over her mother and wished that well would run dry already. "We caught it... We caught it late. By the time they found out, it was too late to do anything. We're just... We're just holding on as best we can." She sniffed.

A hand brushed her cheek where a traitorous tear escaped. Another droplet followed, and then another, until suddenly the dam broke and her tears spilled forth in sobs. She ran into Lucifer, hugging him tightly as she cried in a way she hadn't since they first received the diagnosis for brain cancer. 

Six months of watching her mother slowly transform into another person had been absolute torment. Glimpses of the strong Chloe Decker every so often just brought more pain when it faded behind blurry vision and confused language. Her mom was deteriorating quickly and Trixie had only a scant few months left to give all her love.

Lucifer held Trixie for several moments, stiffly patting her back to soothe the hiccups that had bubbled out of her. He only pulled back when she stopped crying, finally reducing her grief to shaky breaths and watery eyes. Grave eyes turned away from the teen to the patient and Lucifer heaved a sigh.

"Cancer. What a bitter irony it is. Humans spend so long extending their lives only to suffer from their own body attacking itself. Its like allergies but much, much worse." His hand aborted a gesture to his breast pocket where Trixie vaguely recalled his flask being. Or perhaps it was his cigarettes. Instead, he ran a hand through his curls and closed his eyes tightly in frustration.

"Beatrice." Lucifer turned to the teenager, his eyes expressing eons of suffering and knowledge. "I can help the de--your mother. But first, I need you to leave the room for a few minutes."

"What?" Trixie protested. "No way, you can't kidnap Mom!" She remembered the borderline legal actions her mother used to complain about Lucifer doing, always skirting at the edge of the law. "I won't let you put her at risk like that!"

"I don't plan on taking her anywhere," Lucifer replied, scowling. "I promise.”

Beatrice stared at him for a while, trying to figure out what he could accomplish in just a few minutes that didn't involved absconding with her mom. Misunderstanding her scrutiny, Lucifer barked out another breath, shifting anxiously. "Fine, but then you'll have to do me a favor. In exchange for healing your mother, you cannot tell anyone about what you're about to see or that you ever saw me in the first place."

Trixie's eyebrows shot up, but her frown remained in place. "What? Not even Mom?"

"Especially not your mother. I suspect she wouldn't appreciate knowing that _I_ was the one helping out."

"Then why would I--"

"Because I can save her!" Lucifer interrupted, snapping. For a brief moment his eyes seemed to flash red. "I have the ability to; Chloe is often just too stubborn to accept help as if she still needs to prove herself despite all she's already done." He brushed a hand through his hair again, growling. "And even if she would reject my help, I suspect you and I are of the same mind in wanting her alive and well, yes?" 

Beatrice nodded mutely, a bit frightened by the expression on his face--wild and hurt. Lucifer jerked his head towards Chloe again and stepped forward. "Then, do we have a deal? My assist for your silence?" The teen nodded again.

Then, her world shifted as the room lit up, as feathers filled the space around Lucifer. White wings stretched out before folding in slightly and resting comfortably on the back of a man who was not actually a man, apparently. Trixie gasped, but instead of terror or awe ,she felt as if her reality settled. Like everything suddenly slotted into place instead of been turned upside down.

Lucifer reached back carefully, plucking a feather from a wing with practiced fingers. Holding it before him, it glowed slightly. "If I'm being honest, which is a given, I'm not entirely sure how this will work out. Your mother and my powers have a bit of a... Complicated relationship. Plus, I've not used this particular ability on a human. The divine and humanity don't mix, as my brother would tell you." He shrugged slightly and as he spoke the feather's light grew.

"Wait, what?" Trixie asked, eyes widening. Lucifer's eyebrow twitched upward along with his lips.

"Still have full control of you facilities I see. I'm impressed. I was talking mostly to myself there, darling, don't worry."

"How can I not? What are you going to do?"

"Heal her, of course. I said as much, didn't I?" Lucifer frowned. The light of the feather was almost blinding now, making his dark eyes seem almost white with the luminescence.

"But Mom's human! Does it work on humans? Are you sure this is safe?"

Lucifer hummed in response, turning back to the feather and stepping forward until he hovered over Chloe's head. "Sort of." He didn't elaborate on what he meant before setting the light on the detective. Expanding outwards, the brilliance of the feather consumed the whole room. Trixie shielded her eyes at the last possible moment, seeing spots in her eyelids even with her arm covering her face. She remained there until there was a knock at the door and a nurse stuck his head in.

"Everything okay? I swear I saw the room light up," the nurse mumbled, glancing around the room to find the source of his mystery.

"Fine!" Trixie yelped. "Fine."

"Okay. Um, if you're sure. You shouldn't stay too much longer here, though. Especially by yourself. Want me to call you an Uber?" The nurse held up his phone in offering.

"No. I'm good," Trixie responded. When he shrugged and left, the teenager turned around, frowning at the space where Lucifer had occupied moments earlier. Sighing, she approached her mother who appeared much the same as before their visit. 

A small feather lay on her head, still white but somehow less pure.


	3. I was wondering when you'd show up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer season 4 drops tomorrow! So last update for a little while I binge watch it a few times.
> 
> Thanks everyone for the comments and kudos! I greatly appreciate them!

**Plans had to be made. Daniel had already done his best to step up and care for Trixie as the custodial parent, but he had to prepare for their future much more solidly now. Which meant figuring out what he was going to do with the latest news he received. First was the doctor's projection. One month, they said. Two if they're lucky, but it'd be a miracle if she lasted longer. She was already spiraling and they shifted treatment to end of life care.**

**Watching his ex-wife die slowly tore pieces of him away day by day. Even after their divorce, they'd been friends and supported each other. They were pillars to prop the other up during hard times.They weren't romantic partners by any stretch of the imagination anymore, even if neither ended up remarrying, but they were family. And at the center of the family was their little girl.**

**Trixie bounced happily into the room, stumbling a bit on the heels she wore. Clutched in her hand was a trophy announcing first place for whatever project she was working on--Daniel kind of forgot, lost in the tsunami of responsibilities thrust on him over the past six months from bills, to Chloe, to becoming essentially the sole parent of a teenager, and then to his job. Still, it was important to Trixie, so he could pretend for her.**

**"Hey, Monkey, how did things go?" he inquired, holding his arms open as Trixie ran into them. She was dressed in a sleeveless summer dress colored navy with just enough glitter to highlight the fact it wasn't black. It faded to brighter blues at the bottom like a sliver of light was trying to make itself known. At least, that was how Ella had described it. To Daniel it looked like a dark dress with to much sparkle to be safe. Her heels were tastefully matching, a brighter blue with even more glitter. It was a present from Mazikeen, an early birthday gift to wear for the contest. Both the upcoming birthday and seeing his daughter wearing such a wonderful outfit just reminded her father of how fast she was growing up. Just a few years to go until she graduated, but it'd been just a few years ago that she was still sneaking chocolate cake to her**

**"We got first place, of course!" Trixie announced, holding her trophy out to Daniel as she stepped back. "Which, really, probably wasn't surprising considering our team." When he just silently blinked she huffed a sigh. "Of the five of us, three are honor students and the other two are pretty damn close." She shrugged and then tilted her head to the side, thinking. The action was so much like Chlo's that Daniel's heart strained, the far off look indicating his daughter was puzzling something out. Then she flashed a grin and was back to the little future President of Mars. "I don't think I contributed enough, but I'll definitely make it up to them. Think Maze, Linda, and I can have another bake off? I promise to make sure Maze won't put any pot in it!"**

**Daniel snorted. "Sure, Monkey. Just check with them first." Trixie seemed to take that as a dismissal and turned to leave, stopping only when her father caught her wrist. "Just a moment, Trixie. We need to talk about something important."**

**Instantly, the good mood vanished. Trixie's eyes widened as she faced her dad, posture slumped in defeat. "Is it about Mom?" she asked, voice barely above a whisper.**

**"No, not... Not exactly.Look, Trixie, I... I am being transferred. Up north, to Seattle." He paused a moment for her to process what he was saying. "It won't be until the end of the school year, so you can finish your grade first, but this summer you and I--"**

**"We can't abandon Mom!" Trixie interrupted. "I won't leave her behind!" She stubbornly held back her tears as she glared at her father. Daniel frowned, realizing she hadn't cried in front of him since the doctors informed them of the tumor. His silence hung heavy in the room and his daughter broke even more. Cowardice kept him from filling in the blanks, but his daughter was clever and brave beyond her years. Not that either helped with knowing her mother was dying.**

**"We're not abandoning her, are we." It was a statement, not a question. Trixie held his gaze long enough for confirmation and then bolted out of the door once more, trophy discarded on the ground.**

**Daniel didn't follow, but he knew where she went. It was exactly where she always went ever since _that man_ vanished off the face of the earth. He'd once asked her why and she'd explained to him in a tone that indicated she thought it was obvious, hands clasped as if praying. "Lucifer said this is where he first arrived on Earth. I figured, if he was going to hear me from anywhere, this would be the closest place." The young girl in his mind's eye turned back to the ocean and shrugged off her pain. "He'll come back."**

**She'd stopped praying when she visited the beach now. Most likely, she'd forgotten how she started the tradition, but it was a part of who she was now. A young lady who sought solace on a beach when her troubles became too much to bear.**

*One Week Later*

"It's a miracle," one doctor stated, flipping through his clipboard for an explanation that wasn't there. Angel feathers weren't exactly common medicine practice.

Three other doctors huddled around their own clipboards, muttering about the change in their patient, furiously trying to figure out what had caused her shift from bad to better. No real treatment had been given since her diagnosis had turned to badly. They'd been strictly trying to keep her as comfortable as possible for her final days.

Trixie placed a hand on her chest, where the feather she'd fashioned into a necklace rested. Her father gripped her shoulder, squeezing slightly as he talked with the professionals. "Is she going to recover then?" His voice was tinged with hope.

Glancing between the two of them, the doctor considered his answer before deciding to give it to them straight. Good man, Trixie decided. "She's doing better and seems to be healing, but there's always a risk of relapse. We're going to keep her here, treat her as best we can to encourage the healing. We'll let you know if any major changes--good or bad-- occur."

Squeezing her shoulder again, Daniel nodded, his face straining into a smile as if it was out of practice. It made Trixie think of Lucifer, how each smile seemed just as difficult. How long had he been out of practice? "Thank you," Daniel said, nodding again. "Thank you. Keep us updated."

For the first time in six months, father and daughter left the hospital with true hope. Chloe Decker would live, Trixie knew it. Lucifer had pulled through. She wanted to shout it from the rooftops, give her thanks to the man--angel--but had no means to do so. She'd promised to keep it a secret, and honestly suspected claiming divinity healed her mother would bring a whole cascade of new concerns on all who knew her. Except Maze. And not just because her best friend probably knew, what with being a demon and whatnot. Trixie could claim to be a werewolf and Maze would probably roll with it. Actually, did werewolves exist?

The teenager's brain filtered through questions as they drove to the school. None could be answered without talking to Lucifer or risk breaking her promise by talking to Maze, but it helped keep her occupied so she didn't blurt out that her mom was doing better to all her friends in school. Chloe would keep doing better, but it was probably a good idea to wait until the doctors decided she was out of danger. That didn't stop Trixie from running immediately towards the hospital after school, however, determined to let nothing distract her from checking on her mother.

"I'd typically accept, darling, but I'm afraid I'm waiting for someone," a man stated, breaking through Trixie's thoughts.

Nothing could distract her except that, she supposed. Aborting her previous path, the teen hurried in the direction of the voice and across the street. One building down, leaning against a fence outside of a small shop with "For Lease" on the window, was one of the two people primarily occupying her thoughts. A woman leaned incredibly close to him, whispering in his ear in obvious invitation. He grinned at her, but shook his head.

"It's quite important, but perhaps next time?" he offered.

"Lucifer!" Trixie greeted, smiling as she hurried to him.

Immediately, the woman was ignored as Lucifer pushed off the fence and faced the newcomer. He seemed to brace for something and looked a little disappointed when Trixie stopped a few steps away. "Beatrice! I knew you'd be along sometime. Didn't know quite what route you'd take, but it looks like Lady Luck is smiling on us!"

"Where have you been, Lucifer?" Trixie questioned, hands on her hips. "What have you been doing?"

"Hm? This and that, but it's not important. I'm here to check up on you and your mother. How are the two of you doing?"

The smile on Trixie's face grew. "Great! Mom's healing quickly! They're worried she might relapse, but I assume that won't happen?" She tiled her head, frowning slightly. "Actually, was the fact Mom didn't instantly get better planned?"

Lucifer nodded stiffly. "If she recovered in a flash, I suspect it'd make the news and everyone would be scrambling to find some magical proof through her." He snorted as if he _hadn't_ used magic to heal the detective.

"The doctors _are_ calling it a miracle," Trixie noted and earned a vague shifting of shoulders from the Devil.

"Sure, but they'll no doubt find some explanation to placate their curiosity. It's strange and rare, but not unheard of. Humans are odd and resilient creatures."

Trixie felt happiness build in her as Lucifer regarded her gently. "So what are you going to do now?"

"Let you continue on your journey now that I have my update, then head off."

The way he said 'head off' caused Trixie to pause, concern filling her. "Head off? Back to Hell or something?"

"No, if I head back there, Amenadiel will just drag me right back to Earth. A bit ironic, really. I could fight him off for a while, but eventually..." The Devil trailed off, waving off the rest of his sentence.

"But you're leaving LA?"

"Yes, Spawn." Brown eyes scanned the horizon, seeing something the teen couldn't. "Perhaps I'll go to England. Or France. It's been a while."

Memories of her family and friends struggling with the loss of Lucifer flashed behind Trixie's eyes. They were blurry from age, but the emotions came through raw and fierce. So much love that had turned to pain, anger, and sorrow, and he was just going to abandon it all when he had a chance to make things right?

"You can't!" Trixie shouted, reaching out and grabbing Lucifer's suit jacket. It was a new one, cleaner than the one he'd showed up in. Of course it was. He'd had a week to replace his wardrobe.

Stern eyes considered her. "Why not?"

Fumbling for an answer, Trixie realized only one solution would do, if their deal in the hospital was anything to go by. "You owe me a favor!"

"Do I now?" Lucifer said, voice grave to indicate she needed to understand just what she was claiming.

"Years ago! Before you left I pretended to be your daughter! You said I could have anything I wanted!"

The Devil hesitated, trying to recall what she spoke of, before jerking his head in confirmation. "Yes, I recall. We agreed on driving lessons. Very well, let's go buy you a car and get right to it."

"I don't want it anymore! I don't want driving lessons! We never explicitly claimed it had to be driving, so I want something different." She knew she sounded desperate, but she couldn't help it.

Lucifer paused before replying, tugging on his free sleeve and pulling his hand out of her grip. "Very well. What do you desire?" He kept his gaze firmly on the ground as he spoke, but a buzz of power circled around them.

"Stay here. In LA," Trixie requested. The vibration vanished immediately and Lucifer turned pained eyes to hers. "Please, Lucifer. Just one year."

"I..." The man glanced around. Finally he returned his gaze to her and his expression softened. "You're a devious little minx, aren't you?" A flicker of a real smile returned. "Deal."

Trixie jolted forward into his body, pulling him into a tight embrace. He huffed out a breath of air at the sudden pressure and then returned the hug awkwardly, patting her back a few times for good measure. Still in the her arms, he added "Why do I feel like you made out of this deal like a bandit?" Trixie only giggled in response.

*

At the hospital, Trixie found her mother already awake, though worse for wear. Her face looked drawn and her skin pale. Still, she lit up at the sight of her daughter and moved to the side to let the girl crawl in beside her, which was more than she'd been able to do in a long while. Obliging her mother, Trixie curled up next to her and sighed contentedly. An arm snaked around her shoulders, pulling her even closer and into a hug.

"Hey Monkey," Chloe said, her voice soft but clear. "How are you holding up?"

"I could ask you the same thing," Trixie replied, giggling.

"True, but my situation isn't that different. Feeling better, but tired." Chloe squeezed her daughter's shoulder and yawned. "Doctors say that's normal, that healing takes a lot of energy."

Trixie nodded and rested her own hand on her mother's. "We won first place in the science contest," Trixie updated in return. "And Dad agreed to let Linda and Maze help me make sweets for the team since I was busy."

Another hug and a kiss to her forehead was the return response. Chloe smiled into her daughter's hair. "I'm proud of you, Trixie. You've done so well, been so strong. I'm so sorry for all I put you through." There was a hint of sorrow in her tone, but Trixie knew her mother was sincere. The teen shook her head.

"If you want to make it up to me, do so by getting better."

"I'll do my best, Monkey."

Trixie grinned and then remained beside her mother, dozing off at one point to the soothing sound of her mother's heartbeat, steady and strong. The two slept beside each other until Daniel knocked on the door and stepped in. Then, as Trixie and Dan readied to leave, Chloe called out to them, vaguely confused as she looked about the small tray with her belongings.

"Hey, have either of you seen my phone?" Chloe stared right at the spot where Lucifer's cell usually sat. Trixie's heart sped up but fortunately Daniel answered, stopping her from having to try and lie.

"No, I haven't.Maybe one of the orderlies took it. I'll ask around."

"Okay. Um, thanks Dan."

Walking down the hallway, Daniel shifted uneasily beside his daughter. "I didn't take it, if you're curious. I know how important it is to Chloe."

"I know, Dad," Trixie replied. "Let's just ask the front desk." Thankfully, in his nervousness Daniel didn't see his own daughter shift just as uneasily. Because _she_ knew where it was. Back with it's actual owner.

*

Another week passed with Chloe's health continuing to improve. The doctors remained confused as always, claiming that none of their efforts appeared to be effecting her at all. Positive _or_ negative. Unfortunately, this resulted in a very restless detective who wanted nothing more than to make up for lost time and escape the hospital.

Trixie spent more time with her mother as a result, leaving only when someone else came by to visit so she could work on homework. She didn't regret a single moment together, but it did leave her drained. So when she arrived to school on Tuesday, she buried her head in her arms in a futile attempt to get a fifteen minute nap. Unfortunately, she was drawn out of an almost doze by Sarah clearing her throat.

The fellow student was one of Trixie's friends from middle school. She had moved to California from Texas, but had no accent that harked back to her home state. Tall, tan, and awkward, Sarah and Trixie had become fast friends by bonding over martial arts of all things. Sarah wasn't nearly as skilled as Trixie, but she definitely impressed her teachers. However, combat skill didn't translate to social skills.

"You look exhausted. Hospital issues?" Sarah questioned, earning a warning glance from another student. Trixie's mother's hospitalization was common knowledge around the school. The price of being semi well known.

Trixie shook her head. "Not exactly, but close enough. Just been busy."

"Well, you look like you could use a pick me up," Sarah noted, diving into her real reason for approaching Trixie. "There's this new cafe that opened up nearby, a couple blocks outside of the school zone. They say the coffee is to die for. We should go check it out at lunch!" Trixie frowned and Sarah nudged her. "Come on, my treat!" Then she leaned forward conspiratorially. "I don't want to go alone. The owner is rumored to be an eleven out of ten on the hot scale. So please Trixie? Please?" She whined a little, batting her eyes at her friend.

"Fine, Sarah, fine, but only so long as you pay."

"Deal!"

At lunch, a tired Trixie who wanted nothing more than to sleep for half an hour, ran down the street beside an energetic girl looking to ogle a hot guy. As they stopped by the cafe though, it was evident coffee was not on the list of things they would get. A long line stretched out of the coffee shop and tables were packed, including the three outside pressed against a familiar fence. Still, Sarah's goal was the man, not the drinks, so they pushed their way inside.

The cafe was called Redeye Roast, apparently. Two intertwined, red R's faced each other so that the hooked backs formed horns and clear text underneath clarified the name. Inside was simple, chic appearance with warm red and oranges that reminded Trixie of a sunrise. The walls were bare and decorations as a whole sparse, giving it a bit of a "work in progress" feel that was diminished only by the sheer amount of people trying to press in for a drink. The line moved slowly, too, and not only because there appeared to be just one person manning the register and machines.

"Beatrice!" Her name sounded over the crowd from behind the counter, drawing her attention to the man Sarah sought out. Of course, it was Lucifer, standing next to the register in a black dress shirt, the most dressed down Trixie had ever seen him. He waved her forward, grin spreading wide. "I was wondering when you'd show up."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally the cafe shows up! Struggled so much with the name.


	4. Let's hurry on with our day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is brought to you by the fact that THEY NEVER FULLY ADDRESS LUCIFER'S GUILT OVER HIS BROTHER. And a few cans of energy drink.
> 
> Also, if you haven't seen season 4 yet, go! Go watch it! It's fantastic and far better than anything I can produce (not that I won't put my best foot forward!) It's unlikely I'll be addressing anything that happened in it, as this was a pre-season 4 fic, though there are a couple of theme similarities from a couple episodes I'd already planned due to hints from the previous 3 seasons. But no Eve, no Kinley, no nothing.
> 
> Also, a warning for creepy imagery

**Amenadiel landed on the balcony of the penthouse without ceremony, folding his wings out of sight as he stepped into his brother's home. It had changed drastically from artistic and classy to a den of desire. Wincing slightly, he wondered what could have caused his brother to redecorate like this. Maybe Amenadiel should have checked in sooner, but he'd been so busy. And really, Lucifer was at least partly to blame for abdicating his throne.**

**"Luci?" the angel called out, strolling through the equivalent of a German sex dungeon combined with some battlefield training setup. Instead of the Devil, however, a leather clad demon stepped into the room, leaning against the stone wall. "Maze?"**

**"Where the hell have you been?" Mazikeen hissed, twirling a dagger in one hand. "So happy to be back in Heaven that you couldn't swing by to check in even once in six years?"**

**"I've been busy, Maze," Amenadiel justified. "I hadn't realized how much time had past until recently. It's hard to really grasp the passage of time in both the Silver City and Hell. Where is Lucifer, though?"**

**"Not here," Maze dismissed, pushing off of the wall and going to the one thing that remained familiar from when Amenadiel was last there--the bar. She poured a glass of bourbon and offered it to the angel before taking a swig directly from the bottle herself.**

**Amenadiel accepted the drink politely, but merely held it as he continued. "If you see him, let him know I need to talk to him. Much as I'm loathe to ask for his help, there seems to be some issues in Hell with his demons. They'd probably take a command better from... What's wrong Mazikeen?"**

**As he'd been speaking, Maze's apathetic default had shifted to something bordering on concern, though she quickly hid it with another draw from the bottle. Clearing her throat with a cough, she prompted "You've been in Hell?"**

**"Well, not always, but someone has to watch the Gates. When I returned to the Silver City, the task was being passed around between all my siblings." Like a particularly awkward game of hot potato, he'd mused. Their unwillingness to watch the Gates, even for a short time, spoke volumes about his brother, who spent millenia ruling it with no reprieve back to Heaven. No wonder the rebellious son wanted to escape it. It was difficult, but watching the fallen kingdom for a couple decades seemed the least he could do for his brother. He may not be Amenadiel's test, but if there was something that the oldest son had realized from his brief stint as a mortal it was that Lucifer wasn't evil. Even the Devil would need time to rediscover the good when otherwise surrounded by the guilty.**

**"That's not possible," Maze growled. "No one should be watching Hell."**

**"Someone has to, Maze. I don't enjoy the task but--"**

**"No! I mean none of _you_ guys should be. Lucifer returned to Hell. Six years ago."**

**"Are you sure?" the angel questioned, receiving a glare for his inquiries. "Right, sorry, of course. But I've been there a while now, Maze. I haven't seen him and surely he'd have stopped by his throne at some point, or passed me even accidentally. Unless..." He hesitated, a brief memory of a conversation with his mother. A concern over just how much killing their brother, Uriel, weighed on Lucifer, trapped him. Amenadiel had brushed it off, more concerned with his vanishing act, assuming that had to do with the discovery of Chloe's miracle status. But what if... "he's stuck in a Hell Loop of his own making."**

*****

**For a while, Amenadiel was worried he wouldn't be able to find the door. Lucifer was still the Lord of Hell, proclaimed vacation or retirement aside. If he didn't want his brother finding the door, he could probably hide it. Or prevent him from opening it. Or something. Amenadiel wasn't entirely confident that, if Lucifer didn't want to be found, he could find the Devil. However, after walking the corridors a little aimlessly, he was surprised to find how easily it was to identify Lucifer's room. The penthouse doors were stood out among the rest.**

**They opened before his hands, even, with that familiar ding as he stepped inside. However, as the doors closed behind him, he felt himself travel down and the heat of Hell chill to ice the further he went.Light faded, leaving him nearly blind except when he looked up at the lightbulbs above him, still glowing strongly without providing any illumination.**

**Another cheery ding announced the end of his trip, opening the doors to a room filled with ash, piled into the corners with weird objects on the top of each pile. A light blinked in the distance, like a star, but otherwise the room was dark. Two figures were present besides Amenadiel. One was Uriel, which hadn't been entirely unexpected except that the deceased angel didn't move, as if frozen in time, dagger jutting out of his chest. The other...**

**"Get out," hissed a raspy voice. The scratching sound wasn't from disuse but rather reminded Amenadiel of someone who wore out his vocal cords from screaming too much. Lucifer slouched in defeat before his frozen brother, suit covered in ash and head bowed as he clutched something to his chest. Amenadiel approached slowly, only stopping when his brother snapped again. "I said get out!" the Devil roared, spinning around to face the intruder.**

**The red face, scarred and burned while a fire flared eternally inside, always disturbed even the oldest angel, but more bothersome was what he saw held in Lucifer's hands. The full burden was hidden, but golden locks slipped free from charred fingers, dangling before him There was no body attached to the hair. Amenadiel's stomach churned.**

**"Lucifer. What..." Amenadiel took another step forward, unsure what question was trying to escape as too many crowded around the exit that was his lips to make sense. Recognition dawned on his brother's face slowly before suddenly the bloody image of the Devil was replaced with the charming fallen angel, though even that was a bit jarring as he resembled a war prisoner, tattered and tortured.**

**"Amenadiel," Lucifer whispered, hugging the object in his hands closer to him possessively. He whipped right back to Uriel, still statuesque, and snarled "Go away. You're no more welcome than anyone else. Leave me."**

**"I can't do that, Luci."**

**"And why not!" Lucifer slammed a fist down, causing all the piles of ash to shake and spread a little, crowding the three of them. "I know you don't actually care about me. You just think you need to help me because _Dad_ wants you to. A test, was it? Or perhaps my being here has saddled you with my role again. Need the Devil to take his place again so you can actually go home? Well, I won't have it. I'm better off... Here..." Lucifer's voice broke towards the end and he lifted his head up to look at Uriel's wound, as if all of his punishment was presented there.**

**Amenadiel swallowed, his throat dry as he crossed the distance to Lucifer and rested a hand on his back. "No, Luci, I'm not here to make you rule again." He doubted he could, even if he wanted to. The door here would likely beckon Lucifer right back, trapping him again until Lucifer felt redeemed. That never happened; no one ever escaped their Hell Loop. "You've been gone six years."**

**"Has it only been that long?" Lucifer questioned, dark eyes gazing into the distance now, towards the star.**

**"Being here isn't good for you. There are people back on Earth who are worried and want you home. Come on, let's go." Amenadiel's grip tightened, trying to encourage the man before him to get up.**

**A hand slapped his away, and a snarl accompanied it. "No, this is where I belong, brother! Don't you see? I've done this, all of this." Lucifer gestured to the room around him as if the ash meant more than just gray specs of dust. "I'm exactly as you've always claimed me to be. Evil. You know it, _Pierce_ knew it, _Dear Old Dad_ has known it since the beginning of time. Even... Even Chloe..." He choked again, hugging the hair closer once more and openly sobbing for a few moments. **

**Amenadiel was left speechless, having seen his brother in pain before but never to this extent. He returned his hand to his brother's shoulder, resulting in Luci cutting off his turmoil and growling. "Better I stay here. Lock up the embodiment of evil, the Prince of Darkness, the King of Sin. That way no one has to deal with me anymore. No one else has to die at my hands."**

**The golden strands started to turn gray as he spoke, crumbling loose from his grip as it turned to dust. A wind, unfelt by Amenadiel, gusted through and guided the dust to the rest of the gray piles. Not ash then. Amenadiel's stomach churned again as he inspected the area once more. Piles of dust, mountains. Enough to make landscapes, worlds possibly. They stretched endlessly outwards, lit only by the single star.**

**The strange objects began to make sense. They were varied from a small human-esque statue to paper knives to even a small cross necklace. Grave markings, memorials, or something that reminded Lucifer of who each dust pile once was.**

**Why? Uriel made sense, perhaps even Cain if he'd made his presence known--though Amenadiel couldn't find anything that may have belonged to the ex-immortal. However, each item had to have belonged to the humans Lucifer befriended. People he hadn't hurt, but people he cared about. Whatever his reasoning, Amenadiel couldn't grasp it.**

**Picking up a familiar bowl of dusty candy wrenched at Amenadiel's heart and he returned to Lucifer, who stiffened in surprise. "Luci. You can't stay here. Whatever this is, it's not your fault. You're not what everyone claims you to be, myself included." He lifted his brother up, straightening him so that he stood and ignored the dust on his shirt. Pulling the Devil into an embrace, he continued "You have the ability to move beyond this, you just have to try."**

**Guiding Lucifer out of the room had been easy. He'd seemed dazed at either Amenadiel's kind words or the hug or perhaps both. However, when the heat of Hell started to warm him, panic set in and Lucifer began to fight back, clawing to get away from his brother, to return to that hellish landscape. It took all Amenadiel had to fly them out of Hell, and even then he worried he couldn't keep him out.**

**Thankfully, the sight of a grown up Trixie on the beach seemed to take the last bit of fight out of the Devil.**

*Two Weeks Later*

"A cafe," Amenadiel scoffed, looking around the empty building as his brother busied himself with the small kitchenette and a multitude of steaming machines.

"What'd you expect? A stripper bar? Another night club?" Lucifer snorted. "Far too conspicuous. They'd find me almost immediately." He didn't clarify who 'they' were, but he didn't need to. 

"Well, honestly, I did expect that, but I guess I'm more surprised you stuck around LA. What made you stay?"

Lucifer shrugged as he poured a drink into a large paper cup and then pulled out a can of whipped cream. He was efficient and graceful as he prepared whatever coffee concoction he was working on, but he always had been. Lucifer was always the best at whatever he put his mind to; he just had to want it. Finishing the cup off with a couple of chocolate garnishments, the angel behind the counter set the drink in front of Amenadiel and quickly followed it with a small plate with scrambled eggs and a couple slices of bacon. "If you must know, a clever little minx tricked me into staying. For now." At Amenadiel's hesitation, Lucifer raised an eyebrow. "What, was I wrong in remembering you like unnecessarily sweet drinks? Moved beyond cosmos? Or did you need a little pick me up, because I do have booze if you need me to grab a bottle from upstairs. I'm willing to share with my brother."

Amenadiel shook his head and picked up the drink. It was better than he even expected, rich chocolate filling his senses with just a hint of coffee. He sighed contentedly and noticed the smirk on his brother's face. Setting the cup down, he leaned forward, ready to get down to business. "What do you want, Luci?"

Lucifer's gaze shifted down to the eggs, suddenly appearing incredibly vulnerable and worrying Amenadiel. "You can't tell anyone I'm here."

"What? Lucifer, they need to know."

"No! They don't!" Lucifer jerked back and turned to his kitchenette again, busying himself with cleaning and prep work. "Please, Brother, I can't handle it right now. I'm staying here, for now, but if I have to see them, I don't think I... Look, just don't tell anyone. Not yet."

Amenadiel rested a hand on the table, feeling the warmth from his cup radiating to his hand. "What about Maze? She's the one who sent me to find you."

"Not even Maze. For one, if she really wants to know, she'll just find me. What with her being a demon, once my loyal right hand guard. But also I can't trust her not to tell anyone. We all know how she gets. She'd let it slip just to spite me." Lucifer glared at the wall in front of him as if the demon were there to confront.

"I understand, but Luci," Amenadiel began, stopping when he heard the cafe doors open. Both angels shifted to face the newcomer, the familiar dark hair and brown eyes of the teen he saw on the beach stepping in nervously. Behind him, Lucifer clapped his hands.

"Ah! The Birthday Girl! Right on time. Here, I'll prepare you a drink and then slip up for a moment to get your gift! Amenadiel, be useful and socialize with the young lady while I work."

Trixie raised an eyebrow at Lucifer, but smiled as if he was telling some joke and she was in on the punchline. "Morning Amenadiel. You sticking around too?"

She must be the little minx Lucifer meant. Amenadiel smiled at her. "Yeah, well, I figured it's my responsibility to watch over Lucifer while he readjusts to... Los Angeles." He winced at his pause, but was grateful he caught it before saying "Earth."

"He's a busybody like that," Lucifer added, sliding a plate with an omelette towards Trixie along with cup. "Anyway, gift. I'll be right back."

After the younger man hurried away, the two remaining people quieted for a few moments, eating and drinking the food they'd been provided. Trixie leaned forward, however, once she heard a door upstairs shut. Conspiratorially, she whispered "Do your wings glow like Lucifers?"

Amenadiel jolted, eyes wide as he stared at her. "You know?"

Trixie shrugged. "He showed me."

Well, _that_ was a surprise. "And you're okay with it?"

"Lucifer's always told us the truth. I believed him when I was a kid, so it wasn't hard to believe him again." She shrugged again, grin spreading like a Cheshire cat. "So, do your wings glow or no? Can I see them?"

Amenadiel stared at the windows of the store appraisingly and shook his head. "No, my wings don't glow and I can't bring them out in public. It's far too dangerous."

Trixie nodded as if she expected his answer. "Thought so. 'Lightbringer' wouldn't be much of a name if every angel glowed like he did. Was curious though." She tapped her chin in thought, taking another drink. "What about werewolves, are they real?"

"No, werewolves are not real," Lucifer answered, hurrying down the steps with a small bag hanging off his wrist. "Imaginary creatures created out of a combination of the two most dangerous things they could conjure up at the time. Wolves and humans." He smirked at his clever wit but only earned an eyeroll from his audience.

Turning his nose up at their reaction, Lucifer set the bag on the counter for Trixie. "Well, then, you two need to hurry up. Young Beatrice needs to get to school, and I need to open without my dour brother darkening the mood." He grabbed the empty plates and gestured with them to the two people in front of them. "Go on. Open the gift and then let's hurry on with our day."

Trixie picked up the bag, smiling gently at Lucifer. "You know tomorrow is technically my birthday, not today."

"And tomorrow's a Saturday so I don't expect you to be coming by when you aren't on your way to school. One day early won't hurt anyone."

The teenager sighed and then opened up the bag. A puzzled expression crossed her face as she lifted out a small device with headphones wrapped around it. The critical look she gave the Devil caused Amenadiel to laugh while Lucifer shifted uneasily. "An iPod?"

"I know it's not top of the line work but I didn't know your interests and I suspected unicorns and aliens wouldn't do anymore. So, I uh..." Lucifer glanced to the side. "Retrieved it. From the penthouse. Your mother left it behind a long time ago." His expression softened at a memory. "Anyway, I figured since I got my phone back, I should return this, but I suspect your mother already replaced it and you'd probably be more interested in what she had on it. A fair bit of 90s jams, but..." He shrugged.

Trixie studied the iPod with renewed understanding and then beamed at Lucifer. "I love it, Lucifer. Thanks."

Lucifer returned the smile, a light turning on in his eyes, before nodding and waving the two away. "Right, well then, off you go. School, work, and not scaring off customers. Let's go about our day. And, Beatrice, do enjoy your birthday tomorrow!"

*

Trixie's grandmother had been generous in letting Daniel host his daughter's birthday at her beach house. At first, he'd been hesitant as it held too many memories of Chloe, but with his ex-wife's continued healing he was now grateful for the opportunity. If anything, recalling her childhood memories had cheered Trixie up more than anything. She was giving the tour to her friends--a small gathering of six high schoolers including the birthday girl. Listening to her made him realize just how much this house meant to her.

The tour was short, but the stories endless. Others interjected with similar stories of their own, especially since having a celebrity relative was common in this city, but when Trixie started telling tales about Mazikeen and Lucifer, Daniel realized just how odd Trixie's life had been even in comparison to the crazy population of LA.

"And once, when I was seven, my father showed up in my room completely--"

"Okay! I think that's enough stories, how about we get to the cake and gifts?" Daniel prayed his face wasn't as red as he felt. Mazikeen was a good friend now, but back then...

"Yeah! Linda made the cake since she and Maze couldn't be here!" Ella called from the kitchen where she'd volunteered to occupy and cook. Linda was keeping Chloe company and Maze claimed to be busy lately, seeming to wait for something.

Birthday song sung, candles blown out, and teenagers digging with voracity into the ice cream and cake--chocolate, because some things never changed--and Daniel stepped away to check his phone. As he expected, a missed call from the hospital. Dread coursed through his veins as he waved to Ella to handle things while he called back. There was only three reasons they'd call Daniel: one, Chloe had relapsed; two, Chloe was being released; three, he was behind on payments. Considering the date, he was pretty sure he knew it was option three. So when the hospital answered and Espinoza went through the hoops of identifying himself, he immediately jumped into an apology. "I am so sorry that I'm late. It's just, it's my daughter's birthday and I wanted something special and I lost track of my balance. I'll have the payments by next week. I promise."

A chuckle was his response and he could hear the tapping of a keyboard as the doctor responded. "You're fine, Mr. Espinoza. All payments have been made in full and your balance is completely clear. Were you not informed?"

"What? No. Who uh... Who paid for it?" He'd already told Maze he couldn't accept her money, but secretly he hoped she had gone through with it anyway.

A few more keystrokes and a short hum. "Anonymous donation, apparently."

"What?"

"Looks like you have someone looking out for you, Mr. Espinoza."

Tell him about it. Chloe's turnaround had been a blessing, but also out of medical debt? Daniel felt himself sag against the outside of the house in relief, a weight on his shoulders lifted. "Then why did you call?"

"Well, Ms. Decker has been doing remarkably well over the past two and a half weeks, so we were hoping to arrange a day for her to be released soon, with scheduled check ups, of course."

"She's doing that good?"

"Indeed. We're thinking of asking her to let us take a sample of her blood for testing purposes." The doctor trailed off momentarily, in thought, so Daniel wasn't quite sure if he was supposed to hear the next part. "It's such an unprecedented situation that it could be exactly what we need to save thousands of lives."

"I think that's something you'll have to talk to Chloe about," Daniel explained.

"Right. Well, then, what day should we arrange for her release? We want to keep her until Wednesday at least, but if things continue in their current trend then any time after that should be fine."

"Friday, then? I'll get Trixie after school and we'll make a day of it."

Another soft chuckle. "I don't need to know your plans, but Friday works great. Afternoon."

A few more details were hashed out quickly before Daniel put the phone away and returned to the party. Trixie had already torn through her gifts and placed them on the end table behind her as she and her friends had started using one of them, which appeared to be a board game involving words. Spotting her father, Trixie stood up and gave him a hug.

"Hey, Monkey. Get anything good?"

Trixie laughed and her hand went to the necklace she'd gotten a week or so ago. A preserved feather that Daniel was pretty sure belonged to a dove. "I already got the greatest gift I could ask for," she said with a broad grin. "Mom's going to live."

*

Lucifer was glad he'd made the decision to close early, even if it upset the customers at his sudden shift of attitude. His hands shook as he barely managed to turn the lock and teeter back to the counter, leaning on it with shaky limbs. He wasn't sure what triggered this reaction. He'd been doing well, he thought, but then a woman with long gold hair would appear, or a Latino girl would slip a Spanish phrase into her English, or he'd hear some man say "Yes and..."

Whatever the cause, it always seemed ridiculous, because sometimes it'd do nothing but others. Well other times left him barely holding himself up as he tried to focus on the here and now. _Breath in and out, Lucifer_ he thought to himself, vision blurring. Darkness crowded around him and he felt suddenly claustrophobic and _bloody freezing_.

Then the screaming happened and Lucifer collapsed, hands clutched to his ears to drown out noise that was all in his head. He curled up on himself, growling at his own weakness and hoping no one could see him through the tables and chairs. A drink would help, but the effort to go upstairs was too much, so instead he just succumbed to the visions and waited for them to just go away, likely only after he'd passed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PS, the game Trixie and co are playing is Codenames. Favorite board game of all time.


	5. Start Anew

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the kudos and comments! I'm glad people are liking this and I've officially got about 90% of this planned out. Not sure how many chapters it'll be, but once I do I'll be sure to update the cap.
> 
> Also, as an aside, this opening was originally going to be for chapter 3, but it got delayed as I wasn't ready to bring Maze or Linda in.
> 
> And I should probably note I have no idea how coffee shops or hospitals work. Nor PTSD or panic attacks, though I am doing my best to handle all three with a bit of research

**Taking care of a demon was, for lack of a better word, Hell. Linda Martin prided herself on handling the celestial information better than, well, anyone. As far as she knew, she was the only insider of that particular section of reality, which left her with the unfortunate situation of playing doctor to the divine and infernal, and not just the type of doctor she was paid for. Between light spewing goddesses, wing amputations, and killing and reviving the Devil, she hoped she could escape medical responsibilities for the rest of her mortal life. However, Mazikeen couldn't exactly go to the hospital and her underground clinics would probably put both women in as much danger as they were trying to avoid. After all, who wouldn't want to take a stab at LA's best bounty hunter when she was more vulnerable than normal?**

**So, after Maze rested for a while, Linda drove the demon home and prepared to tend to her long lost best friend. She called in to work, claiming she was taking family leave due to medical emergencies. Then, she busied herself with the demanding warrior, who made things all the more complicated by insisting she didn't need help. She didn't need healing. Which was, obviously, a lie. Maze was wounded, both emotionally and physically, and Linda felt it was her responsibility to help.**

**Besides, Linda honestly missed her demonic friend.**

**Treatment took less time than reasonable for her injuries, but two and a half weeks of bandages, medicine, and talking left the women exhausted. After a particularly long night, involving multiple bottles of alcohol, Mazikeen raised her glass up in a toast. "Vacation!"**

**"Wha?" Linda asked, voice slurring slightly from the alcohol.**

**"We need a vacation. Real one. Take a trip to... Vegas, Canada, New York. I don't know, somewhere. Away from these pesky emotions, away from pesky emotional men." Mazikeen slumped against the couch. Though her speech hadn't been impeded, her ability to think seemed scattered. "We don't need anyone, you and I. And we _do_ need to have fun. So let's go."**

**"I don't know," Linda mumbled. "I have already been gone for a few weeks, what if--"**

**"Come on, Linda! You said it yourself! You never act selfishly, except... You know. So, be selfish! Come with me! Just for a short while. We'll come back."**

**Linda shifted as she considered and then heaved a sigh as she caved. "Fine. We'll go on a vacation." At Maze's cheer of victory, complete with a fist pump, Linda held up a hand. "But only for a week! Then we return and we face our responsibilities. My job, and your relationships. Talk to Lucifer, Chloe, Amendiel, and Trixie."**

**Maze scowled. "All of them?"**

**"All of them."**

**"Ugh, fine, but I choose where we go."**

**Which ended up being overseas, to Europe for some reason. They traveled through the countries like two college girls determined to see every sight and drink every bar dry. It was, honestly, the most fun Linda had had in her entire life. But all good things had to come to an end, so she dragged Mazikeen back with her after seven days of travel, and felt just as happy to be home as she was abroad. Fun and alcohol was great, but family and friends were just as good.**

**The morning after their return, Linda heard her phone buzz angrily. She groaned as she leaned over, grabbing the device. It was new since Maze broke one in an angry fit of pain and then Linda broke another by dropping it into a fountain while trying to take a picture. This was the first time she'd had a chance to really look at her phone since Maze stumbled in, fearing for the doctor's life.**

**So many messages, so many missed calls, but her eyes were drawn to one name in particular. Lucifer. In her concern for Maze, somehow she forgot that Lucifer would likely be caught up in the same tangle of supernatural danger as the demon. The texts were vague questions of asking if she was there, if she was okay, saying he needed to talk to her, or leaving confusing emotes as a way to describe _something_. He also left a voicemail, which she listened to with dread.**

**"Doctor, I was hoping to arrange a session. You weren't... Your office was empty and I was informed you were away on family leave." Lucifer sounded hesitant, his voice shaking similarly to when he first sought out his mother, or when he tried to recant the tale of killing his brother. Scared. Lucifer was scared. "Anyway, contact me as soon as possible." There was a deep intake of a breath, audible on the phone as Lucifer obviously debated on continuing. "The Detective... Chloe. She saw--she won't..." His voice trailed off and then grunted in frustration before ending the call.**

**Linda's body chilled as she heard the message rattle off details of when it was received. Almost a month ago, Lucifer had needed her, reached out to her. And even though he didn't finish, Linda knew what he was saying. Chloe knew the truth.**

*Six years later*

It took ridiculously little time for Trixie to fall into routine with Redeye Roast. From the Monday she'd first ran into him, the two of them made an arrangement. She left for school early and stopped to visit with him fifteen or so minutes before he opened. Since she was heading to school so early, he provided her with breakfast and a drink, free of charge. Then, she would stay late at school so that she could slip into the store between the after school and after work rush. There was always a line, but Lucifer insisted she never wait and urged her on to the point of embarrassment. It was easier to give in than try to be polite for the other customers. She was also recognized easily, and a part of her wanted to correct the few faces that called out "Beatrice" to her. All of this had been setup without ever forming a plan; they'd just settled into what worked for them. And Trixie couldn't help but enjoy the special attention she got from him, her own personal Devil.

Of course, mornings were her favorite. With no one else in the store, they could talk about anything without worry. Knowing Lucifer, he probably didn't care if they discussed the celestial with others around, but Trixie wasn't ready to be labeled crazy. Weird was enough for her.

Still, she was willing to risk surprising her father when she ran out the door first thing Sunday morning. Her party had kept her up late, so the store was open by the time she arrived, but her enthusiasm kept her from feeling bad as she hurried past the church crowd and to the counter. "Lu!" she greeted as she approached. Early on, Lucifer had insisted she not use his full name. Knowing why had made her want to defy him, but the haunted expression he showed every so often had her acquiescing.

"Offspring, morning, hold on just a few moments as I finish up here," Lucifer responded tiredly without glancing in her direction. That was a first. Trixie nodded, but instead of stepping aside, she joined him by the kitchenette and espresso machines.

"Anything I can do to help?"

The grateful smile she received was worth the delay in her news. He nodded towards the kitchen. "I need six bagels with eggs--three sausage, three bacon, and one sausage wants no cheese. The ingredients should be ready, so just assemble and place them in the oven one at a time." He gracefully moved across the counter with three drinks in process, never stopping his work. "When you're done with that, how confident are you with whipped cream?" For a moment, he frowned. "Nevermind, I don't want to know. Though, if you could toss out the empty cartons, that'd be appreciated."

Trixie quickly went to work, pulling her hair back and washing her hands before beginning the process of putting together breakfast sandwiches. Behind her, she heard a couple of older ladies dressed in their Sunday best comment on the girl's presence. "Your help is adorable. Is she your daughter?"

A slight scoff was the response. "Certainly not. No, she's a family friend."

"Oh, how cute! A family business then?"

"Just a me business." Lucifer rolled his eyes and handed them their drinks before waving the two on and continuing with the next customers.

Half an hour past before he could take a break, most of which Trixie simply idled while looking for things to do. She tried to learn how to operate the many machines by watching the owner, but he was too quick, too fluid, and too in the way to get a proper view. When he set down the towel he used to clean the counter, he finally faced her and seemed surprised to see she was still there.

"Ah right, a drink for you as well. What are we feeling today? You're never here on a Sunday, so something special?"

"You've been open only a week, how do you know I'm never here?"

"Two weeks, actually, but I guess you've only known for a week." Lucifer's gaze grew distance as he considered their conversation. "It feels like so much longer. Ah! Hello! How can I help you?" He stepped away, approaching the counter again as another customer arrived.

After he finished with the newcomer, Trixie moved up beside him. "Two drink, please. Hot almond latte, extra foam, and a sugar free caramel drizzle."

Lucifer flashed a grin at her before it froze on his face, recognizing the order. Stiffly, he began preparing the drinks. "Going to see your mother?"

"She's being released on Friday."

"Good for her! Faster than expected, but with the d--with your mother it's never easy to tell. Still, must be driving her insane being confined to a bed with no work. She's not one for sitting idly when she could be out helping others." The Devil avoided looking at Trixie as he set two cups in a drink caddy. 

"She's been insufferable," Trixie joked, taking the caddy. Staring at her feet, the teenager couldn't help but ask "Do you want to swing by and check on her?"

"No." The response was immediate, tainted with barely restrained anger. "Besides, I can't really step away. I'm my only employee." Lucifer continued to avoid looking at her, though he tried to soften his voice.

"About that," Trixie mumbled. "How about hiring me part time? I could work after school or on weekends."

"Absolutely not. For one, your parents would have to sign off on you working here." Lucifer waved off the rest of his conversation with a hand.

"Fine, but you could still teach me the ropes so I could help more if something like this morning occurs. Don't even have to pay me."

A sly grin covered Lucifer's face and he finally turned his brown eyes to lock onto hers. "Under the table dealings, urchin? I never knew you had it in you."

Trixie merely shrugged again. "This way I won't feel guilty about coming by at lunch. Just make me a meal to go and I could visit you then as well."

Lucifer chuckled, grin widening as he leaned on the counter. His silk button up stretch across his frame, reminding Trixie of a question she had to bite back. It was time for happy thoughts, and asking why he wasn't wearing suits seemed to land in the category of unhappy.

"So I would get free labor and more free time with you, all for the cost of teaching you, which in turn grants me more time with you?" Lucifer explained with an amused tone. "I'm having a hard time figuring out if you're just terrible at deals or if there's some sort of hidden agenda."

"I want to spend time with you too, Lu," Beatrice retorted, crossing her arms. The gesture made Lucifer's mouth twitch in restrained humor. Sighing, the teen added "I did ask you to stay in Los Angeles for a reason. I missed you."

Straightening, Lucifer's expression sobered. "And I you, Beatrice." Heaving a breath, he nodded. "Fine, if you can come in earlier in the morning or spare time after school, I'll use any free moments to educate you. But you aren't to work here, just assist when things get too busy." At that he gestured to the drinks in her hand. "Let me remake those so they're fresh."

*

"I think this a good chance to let go," Linda said to Chloe. "Start anew."

"I'm sure. Nothing says new beginnings like near death experiences," Chloe responded darkly, rolling her eyes.

"Not the cancer, though I do think that as well, but the phone. I've been thinking about it since we talked yesterday and I think it's a _good_ thing you lost it. Maybe now you can finally let go." Linda leaned forward, resting a hand on the detective's.

"I have let go, Linda; it's just a..." She waved a hand in the air as she struggled for a word. "Relic, heirloom, memory."

"Which is why every relationship you've had since he left has failed within the first month."

"That has nothing to do with Lucifer!" Chloe protested. "He and I weren't... He and I weren't even like that." Linda just stared at Chloe quietly, scrutinizing the other blonde. "We weren't! We kissed once... Twice, but each time afterwards he ran."

"After something traumatic caused him to run, yes, but _he_ ran, not you. You still held on."

Technically, she did run away from Lucifer. Emotionally for one month, she barred herself from remembering just who her partner was and he in turn fled. Even six years later, she felt guilty about it, but it wasn't what influenced her choice in breaking up with the men that pursued her since! At least, not entirely. To be honest, he didn't help, but neither did her brief relationship with Marcus or even her marriage with Daniel. Perhaps she was just broken, but she was also in her forties now, she didn't need a man. Her family had extended beyond the need for romance.

Sensing her inner turmoil, Linda pressed on. "It's not wrong to remember him, but I do think that having something like his phone was a bit too much. There are a lot of other, smaller things we can hold onto in memory of him. But, Chloe, it's been _six years_. Whether it's Marcus Pierce or Lucifer Morningstar, I think you're letting them hold you back."

"That's just it, Linda, I'm not. I just don't think it's necessary to have a relationship to be happy." Huffing out a breath, Chloe continued, thinking as she spoke. "I won't resist someone if I find myself drawn to them, Linda, but I don't see the need to hunt one down or let anyone in just to have a person to date. They just have to meet my standards."

"Standards that have been set pretty high," the therapist noted, but she smiled affectionately.

Chloe laughed and nodded. "I guess." Not that any of her recent boyfriends really tried. Some seemed to think that just because she was in her late thirties at the time, she was desperate, and others wanted nothing to do with Trixie. Lucifer didn't seem to want to either, but at least he had tried.

As if thinking of her summoned the troublemaker, the doors burst open with a happy Trixie carrying a small bag and two drinks. "Mom! The breakfast service has arrived!" the teen cheered as she entered. Noticing the therapist, Trixie chirped a brief greeting before dropping the bag in her mother's lap and then handing her a drink. "I didn't know you'd be here so I didn't bring a drink for you, but you can have what's left of mine!"

"Oh, no, I'm fine." Linda shook her head but Trixie pushed it towards her insistently until she took it.

"Seriously, I get enough coffee from this place. It's the new hot place near the school." Trixie glowed with pride for some reason. Chloe sipped her drink as Trixie spoke and hummed in delight. It was _perfect_. Pulling the drink back, she noticed the two intertwined and horned 'R's. Not a logo she recognized, but that wasn't surprising since mostly she just remembered the green mermaid. Setting the cup aside, she opened the bag to discover a lemon bar.

"Ah, you spoil your mother," Chloe said. "You didn't need to spend your allowance on me, though. Here, let me pay you back."

The flash of nervousness surprised Chloe, but her daughter quickly smothered it by hugging her mother carefully. "Don't worry, I've wanted to get you a drink for a long time. Just pay for ours when we go out next."

"Only so long as we go to this place." Chloe raised the cup with the logo pointed at her daughter. "The pastries and coffee are to d--postiively divine."

The apprehension appeared again, but Chloe worried it was because of her near slip up. Talking about death tied knots in her stomach, and probably did the same to the young lady in front of her. Remembering how close they'd come to being separated brought tears to her eyes. Whatever had saved her, whatever miracle prevented her from crossing over, Chloe could only be thankful for every second more she had with her daughter.

"Maybe somewhere else," Trixie said. "I go there all the time, so I'd rather go to a different place when it's just you and I." She plopped herself at her mother's feet and snatched the bag to take a bite-sized piece of the pastry. Eating it, the girl practically purred. "Man, I should get his sweets more often," she whispered.

"I have to agree with you two, at least for the drink. This is great," Linda replied as she partook of Trixie's drink. "I'm not usually a fan of caramel, but this has a wonderful balance."

"What's your usual poison?" Trixie inquired casually.

"Oh, I'm a fan of mochas, white or regular really."

Snorting Trixie asked "With extra whipped cream?"

"Oh God no, that's too sweet, but possibly an extra shot of caffeine."

Trixie leaned back slightly, tugging out her phone and typing into it. "Okay, next time I'll pick you up a mocha if I know I'll be seeing you."

"You really don't have to, Trixie," Linda said.

"It's not a problem." The teen finished entering it and continued to lie on her mother's legs. "I'm just happy I can focus on coffee drinks now, instead of other things."

Nudging her daughter with the covered feet, Chloe scowled. "You still have school, Monkey."

"Fine, school too. Doing well in that, by the way! Sarah and I are thinking of taking up after school practices too, so we don't get dragged around by the crowd. My other friends seem interested, but we'll see. Maybe we'll start a mini club. 'After school study group' where you can come and go as you please."

"That sounds great, Trixie, but don't forget to have fun," Chloe noted fondly.

"Hey! You can't have it both ways! And it is fun! We won't just be studying, we'll have games and maybe go through some training routines. You know, an anything goes kind of situation?"

"I had one of those," Linda reminisced. "Back in college. It's actually what made me change my career direction. I think it's a great idea."

Conversation drifted into daily activities between the three of them. Mostly, it was Trixie and Linda as Chloe's days were largely filled with tests and check ups. Linda had a few new clients, who she couldn't talk in detail about but mentioned some vague lessons she was learning as a result. Trixie also was surprisingly vague, usually sticking to her school day rather than after school, and she enthusiastically recanted the tale of her birthday party, reminding both women to wish her a happy birthday. At one point, though, both Linda and Chloe took notice of a necklace that'd fallen from Trixie's shirt during one of her dramatic flops.

"Where'd you get that, Trixie? It's gorgeous." And it was. The necklace was pressed feather, preserved to be more sturdy. It was white and softy like a downy feather but if it was it had to have been from a swan or some other large bird. While odd, the beauty that drew eyes to it was undeniable. Trixie quickly shoved it back into her shirt, face flushing.

"Oh! It was a gift!" she stammered.

"Oh?" Chloe raised an eyebrow, giving her daughter a conspiratorial smile. "Do you have a special someone in your life giving you gifts, Trixie? Because you can tell me. I don't mind if you have a boyfriend, so long as you're careful."

Trixie's face scrunched up in protest. "No! Not a boyfriend. He's way too old for me, for one. Besides, I'm _pretty_ sure he's interested in someone else. No, he's just a friend." Trixie nodded firmly as if that settled it. It didn't, but for now Chloe dropped the line of questioning.

"Still, a feather is a pretty odd thing to give."

"It's gorgeous, though, so I'm not complaining." Trixie grasped the chain fondly and gazed into the distance. "And it's more a symbol of how much help I've received. I can only hope I manage to help him as much as he helped me."

*

Closing up the doors, Lucifer gave final call to the people, gently turning down another customer's offer to stay for other reasons. Honestly, he wanted to, but the gut wrenching reminder that was his nightmares held him back. Night time always made his life worse, and he had no free time during the day to let loose. Perhaps he'd get an actual part time worker. Someone who could handle the store long enough for him to slip out for recreational activities.

"I'm really sorry, sir, but do you think we could stay just one more hour? We're almost done and I don't want to lose our train of thought," one teenager muttered from a corner, barely glancing at Lucifer as if even that much of a distraction was too much.

"We'll help you clean up after, if you let us!" another said, sitting across the table from the first. Both boys had books and papers scattered between them and three empty cups a piece, with fourth cups for each that had ice water. A laptop sat in the second's lap and Lucifer caught a glimpse of a complicated diagram. School work, then.

"Fine, but I'm locking up so you'll have to ask me to be let out," Lucifer stated, walking to the doors and turning the lock before resuming wiping down the tables and machines. He longed for the days when he had someone else to do this work. Really, when he'd had Lux all he had to do was sing and entertain guests. This coffee shop business was tiring, but he was thankful for the distraction. An hour later, both boys seemed focused on their project, still, so Lucifer didn't bother them, pouring himself an Americano and adding a healthy amount of alcohol to the cup before dropping into a seat and drinking it.

"You know, I haven't seen you eat or drink anything until now. I don't think coffee and alcohol is good for you on an empty stomach. Or at all, really, but I don't control your life," the first teenager noted without looking up again. Did he have eyes on the back of his head?

"No, you don't, so you'd do well to not insult the man letting you stay after hours," Lucifer snarled with more venom than intended. Both students finally stopped, turning wide eyes to the store owner who quickly turned away and chugged his drink. When the clicking of the laptop resumed, he relaxed a little. 

"Sorry," the second teenager mumbled. "And thank you."

The two were an odd bunch, Lucifer observed. One was of obvious German or Dutch descent, all legs and a large frame similar to Lucifer's own, with light brown hair and hazel eyes. The other had to be Hispanic with a touch of Asian, leaving him tan, short, and all energy. The difference between the two weren't quite as dramatic as Lucifer and Amenadiel, but it was enough to make the obvious brotherly bond a bit jarring for normal people. There was a long outstanding friendship between them, one with a story Lucifer wanted to know.

Which was alarming. Three weeks back in LA and he hadn't once felt drawn to learn someone's desires, well except the Spawn's but she hardly counted. These two, however, seemed interesting.

When they finished, another half hour later, Lucifer gestured to the counter. "I left dishes back there for you gentlemen. One of you can wash while the other dries. Afterwards, feel free to claim a pastry or two from the box by the register." The both flashed a thankful, if surprised, look at the Devil and he shrugged. "I was just going to throw them out. No skin off of my back."

"Thank you, um..." the German teen muttered, rubbing the back of his neck as he realized he didn't know Lucifer's name.

"You can call me 'Lu'. The Spawn does that, so I suppose it works." His sister did as well, but that hardly mattered.

"Thanks, Lu. I'm Christian."

"And I'm Jesus," the other teenager added, clutching the laptop to his chest as he offered a polite bow in lieu of a handshake.

"Oh dear, is that Jesus as in the one with the unfortunate spelling?"

"Uh, yeah. It is."

"Such dreadful names. I do not envy you," Lucifer mumbled. The boys both laughed, thankfully, and hurried about their business. Efficiency surrounded their movements, each easily covering the other as they worked. It reminded Lucifer, painfully, of his own friendships in the LAPD. "Whatever you're working on together will no doubt be excellent," the Devil noted.

"Huh? Why do you say that?" Jesus asked, leaning back from the counter with soaking wet hands. He'd noticed the gloves late and just resumed with bare hands, which should have been a health concern but Lucifer could hardly protest considering he disregarded the rules himself.

"You two are great partners," Lucifer explained.

"Oh, woah, we're not like that," Jesus proclaimed, flinging his arms out and spraying his friend with droplets. Lucifer laughed.

"No shame if you are, but I didn't mean it like that. I just meant you are obviously close."

"Oh, well, thanks," Jesus said.

"We've known each other for a long time. Both our fathers were in the military," Christian explained while grabbing the half washed plate from the distracted Jesus and finishing it off. "We bonded over that, I guess."

"Absentee fathers? I understand that." Another laugh vibrated through him, this one dark as he turned his gaze outside.

And instantly regretted it.

Lucifer jolted up from his seat, startling the other two, but he barely noticed as he stepped back, feet shaky and desperate to get him out of the area. "Miss Lopez..." His voice choked over the name, but he was stuck on feeble legs as he watched the forensic scientist across the street. He hoped that his former friend didn't turn and look at Redeye Roast, didn't see the Devil himself in pure panic mode. He couldn't move, his body felt numb and his limbs didn't react. The world was crumbling around him and only Ella and he existed. His breath froze in his chest and he could feel the icy surroundings of his room once more.

He needed to go, needed to get out of there before it happened again, before Ella crumbled before him and left only the worst reminder behind. It was his fault; he ruined all of it and the small woman who was so much like his sister would suffer because of him. To stop it he needed to--

"Lu, Lu, you need to listen to me. What you're seeing isn't actually happening. I know it seems like it, but it's not. Can you hear me?"

The voice struck through to him, as did the warmth of a hand grabbing his, which startled him but also helped ground him. It was unfamiliar, but he still recognized it somehow. His head shifted in a nod, if barely.

"Okay, I need you to listen to me. I need you to breath in, slowly and deeply. Take your time. Just breath in--" There was a pause where Lucifer could hear the person talking to him breathing in. The Devil copied, feeling helpless all the while. "And out." They exhaled together and then repeated the process a few times until Lucifer's vision cleared and he fell to his knees in exhaustion.

Glancing around, he noticed the concerned pair of boys watching him. Christian held his hand in the air where Lucifer's had been and smiled stiffly. "Back with us? Sorry for touching you without permission. You didn't hear me the first few times."

Lucifer wanted to snap at them about the dangers of startling an angel, but was far too grateful and instead huffed out one last breath, running a hand through his hair. Across the street was empty except for the street lights that lit up the corner. "Thank you." He still felt drained and embarrassed at his weakness, but it was far less than normal.

"No problem. Our fathers have panic attacks too, so we're familiar." Christian offered a hand and helped pull Lucifer to his feet, not commenting on how much the older man had to lean on him or even asking what caused his panic.

Jesus held out a glass of water, which Lucifer drank quickly before setting it on the table beside him. Rubbing his face vigorously, Lucifer nodded towards the door. "Well then, now that that's over, shall I see you two out? It's getting far too late."

"Are you going to be okay?" Christian questioned, obviously offering to talk about it.

He couldn't. Not to these strangers, and not to his friends. This was a burden he had to carry on his own. "I'll be fine. But sincerely... Thank you. You're welcome to stay late here any time if you wish." Lucifer smiled broadly. It was small compared to helping him come back so quickly from his memories, but there was little else he could offer now. Maybe when he was more level headed he'd figure out a favor to grant them.

The students nodded and Christian patted Lucifer on the shoulder before they picked up their belongings. "Thanks. We'll take you up on that offer."

With a heavy breath, Lucifer watched them leave. Hopefully, he just took one step forward.

*

Chloe's eyes drifted lazily around the room, bored of the same interior she saw every day, bored of the lack of things to do, and pointedly _not_ looking at the place the phone should've been. Several books were closed on the window sill beside her, but she didn't have the heart to read. Her mind was bogged down with thoughts, concerns about her conversation with Linda. Perhaps she _was_ still obsessed with her long missing partner. After all, a part of her couldn't help but see the feather and think of Lucifer--who she suspected had feathered wings but she'd never seen, them which made the thought process even more inane.

It was difficult to consider her trapped by the past, but she knew it was true. She could confess, to herself at least, that there was something wrong with her, something that couldn't move forward because of all the damage she'd suffered over the years, both physically and emotionally.

Dr. Martin was right, she needed to move forward and this was the perfect opportunity. Soon to be released from her six month stay in the hospital and left without Lucifer's phone, it was the perfect start.

And so what if someone stole it? They couldn't really get anything off of it. It was six years old, had no service, and no credit card information. Only conversations, pictures, and games remained, making it a glorified photo album. If someone cleared that data, the only thing of value lost would be the pictures, most of which she'd sent to herself before his plan had ended.

Nope, Chloe didn't care that it was taken. She'd get over it in no time.

Yet, when she drifted off to sleep, her dreams took the form of feathers, bloody and scattered around a loft that'd been blurred by the passage of time. Deep inside her, she knew who these feathers belonged to even if she had never witnessed them on his body. She was alone at first, but then Trixie walked in. Appearing as her eight year old self, the child ignored her mother and walked to the center where a single, un-bloodied feather floated. Catching it, the girl clasped it to her chest in reverence. When she pulled her hands away, the feather hung from her neck on a chain.

Suddenly a teenager, Trixie smiled at her mother. "He'll always be here to protect us," she claimed.

But it was a lie. Lucifer wasn't there, hadn't been there for six years and it was Chloe's fault. Her fault that Trixie had lost a good friend and Chloe had lost her best one. If only she had a second chance to talk to him, to apologize, to let him know she didn't care if he was the Devil.

Tears spilled forth unbidden and Chloe wiped them away with frustration. She wasn't weak, she didn't cry just because her friend left her, like he had so many times before. She was strong, especially in front of her child.

Except, Trixie wasn't there anymore. Lucifer was, in a three piece suit and standing with clarity despite how long it'd been since she'd seen him in person. Without a word, he pulled her into a hug and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"Come now, Detective, crying doesn't make you weak. You couldn't be anything but strong to me and the little urchin." His accent was clear, too. "And,for what it's worth, I forgive you." The last part was barely a whisper.

Her dream faded with the morning sun, but the warmth she felt from the embrace remained. Groggily, she opened her eyes, rubbing the remnants of sleep from them. Her face felt off, as if she'd cried in her sleep, which was embarrassing. As she sat up, she spotted something drifting off of her, fluttering slowly to the floor. They seemed to glow in the dim light of the morning, but when she leaned over to check on them, there was nothing there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BTW, if you've never heard the name before "Jesus" is pronounced "Hey-Zeus." His name was also originally going to be Michael, but my fiance and sister recommended this one and I loved it. There's going to be a few OCs that'll be important, but they're all Trixie's friends. And yes, they'll all most likely have a Christian theme (like Sarah is "Seraph") because I'm silly like this.


	6. I Could Help You Out If You Wished

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cannot express how much your comments and kudos have touched me. I don't have the right words to portray my happiness, but I can at least tell you guys thank you! I have been flattered by your kindness!
> 
> By the way, writing dark scenes is a bit difficult when you have "I'm Alright" stuck in your head.
> 
> An update to the tags has been done to include drug use, just as a heads up.

**Half a year went by with Chloe in a state of semi-suspension. She managed to remain the good mother, the good detective, keep up appearances around the office and in her personal life, but when alone with her thoughts, all of that went away and the walls she delicately placed crumbled down. Guilt wrenched at her soul, and grief as if her partner had died rather than vanished had settled in her mind at some point, but currently it was anger that dominated.**

**Anger at the Devil for leaving, for not trying to explain things properly until she had it dropped on her at one of the worst timings ever, and for not even reaching out to check in on anyone. No one had heard a thing, and Chloe understood why he didn't want to talk to her, but there were others who cared for him: Maze, Ella, Linda, Trixie, and even Dan, though the latter wouldn't admit it.**

**Ella, who was the most open with her concern and the most out of the loop, had offered to put out a search party after a few months had gone by. Maze nipped that idea in the bud, however, by reminding the scientist that if Maze couldn't find Lucifer, no one could. Supposedly, Ella's ghost friend also stated that searching for their wayward consultant would be fruitless.**

**Her daughter had also started looking for Lucifer in her own way, hurrying down to the beach at every opportunity to pray to him. Seeing the young girl desperately reaching out for a man who wouldn't listen tore at Chloe. So many people worried, so many people prayed, so many people called out for him. But silence was all they received in return.**

**Of course, that didn't mean Chloe's anger was strictly reserved for Lucifer. A small part of her was bitter to Maze and Linda, who knew but hadn't told Chloe either, and even Amenadiel, who had vanished alongside his brother. The majority of her remaining fury was turned inward, mixing with the guilt and grief until it formed a monster at night that threatened to consume her.**

**"Don't feel guilty over _him_ ," Maze snorted after Chloe had had one particularly rough night. The demon had moved out to take over Lux already, but stopped by every so often to steal some breakfast and check on Trixie, even if she only claimed one of those objectives. "He's not worth it."**

**Wasn't he, though? Chloe couldn't help but wonder what would have happened had she not learned the truth that day, had that face not returned. Before they received the news about Charlotte, they were about to be _something_. Not that that something hadn't been tried once. Whatever trepidation Lucifer had over being together seemed to have been overcome, though. So, what did that mean? Did it matter? What use were "ifs" when that clearly wasn't the route fate had taken them?**

**Asking these questions to Linda netted little in Chloe's favor, and while the questions Linda returned helped calm Chloe and provide some more control, Chloe began to understand Lucifer's frustration at Linda's insistence on self discovery. She needed to be over him, over this. Why couldn't she when such a strong part of her knew-- _knew_ \--he was gone forever?**

**"You never got a chance to say good-bye," Ella noted, listing to the side after downing her third drink. Maze snorted at that, leaning against the bar from the other side, half working, half chilling with the Tribe.**

**"None of us got to say good-bye. You don't see me crying about it."**

**"Well, a part of that's because you're you, Maze," Linda replied. "Even if you felt a loss at Lucifer leaving, you wouldn't show it no matter what." The tone in her voice indicated that she knew Maze was hurt by her friend's absence. "Chloe's different. We all are mourning the loss of a friend, but to Chloe he was something more." Of the three human women, Linda seemed the most sober of the three, with only a flush betraying her alcohol consumption, but perhaps that was just from Chloe's own perspective.**

**"Can we stop acting like Lucifer and I were anything more than work partners? We weren't," Chloe groaned. "Maybe we had a chance to be, but we weren't. Hell, I went farther with Marcus than I did Lucifer." The reminder made her nauseous and she gripped the edge of the bar tightly to steady herself.**

**The other three tribe members exchanged looks that Chloe couldn't quite read. Ella shrugged and continued. "Doesn't change the fact you never got to say good-bye. So, why don't you try? Like write him a letter."**

**"Or send his phone a crappy voice mail, yelling at him," Maze offered.**

**"Or pray to him?" Linda suggested, earning a glare from both the demon and detective. The casual way she said the statement caused Maze to pull the remnants of the drink away from the therapist.**

**"I'm not praying to _Lucifer_ ," Chloe hissed.**

**"Woah, yeah, that'd be weird and send the wrong message," Ella snickered. "I mean, imagine if you accidentally caught the real Satan. 'Oh, no, sorry, I was trying to reach a friend who has the same name. Totally not you, please don't steal my soul.'" The scientist laughed aloud. "I don't think praying works like that anyway, but who knows?"**

**"I thought you said you think the Devil isn't as bad as the books make him out to be." Chloe leveled blue eyes on her friend.**

**"Oh, I don't know what to think, but I do suspect that he's painted worse than he actually is. History's written by the victors, you know? I will say this, though: if Satan is really anything like _our_ Lucifer portrays him to be, then I wouldn't mind hanging out sometimes. I mean, the guy could probably use a friend considering everything he's gone through."**

**And Chloe was right back to feeling guilty. He did need a friend, didn't he? And he'd opened up so much to Chloe, tried to warn her so many times that he wasn't all good, but she only saw what was on the surface. No, she saw what was on the inside, and then reacted to the surface _after_.**

*****

**Dropped off at home, Chloe dragged her tipsy self to the couch incapable of managing the stairs in her drunken state. As she fell gracelessly onto the furniture, she groaned against the spinning world and her spinning emotions. "Just bury me here, end my suffering," she told no one, eyes locked onto the ceiling. She was drunk enough to have limited control of her facilities, but sober enough to recognize this and it left her in utter turmoil. The hangover that was looming was the only thing preventing her from falling asleep.**

**Instead, she fished out her phone from her purse, intent on playing music or reading--assuming she could tolerate either. As her fingers brushed against Lucifer's phone, however, she found herself pulling it out, drawn to the conversation from before.**

**"Say good-bye." Create some kind of closure, a physical one. Praying, calling, writing... They were all good ideas, or ideas at least, but none fit what Chloe wanted to do. Instead she unlocked his phone, still in service for the next couple of months according to Maze due to advanced payments, and went to his texts. The last one between her and her missing partner simply indicated he was on his way, affirming that he'd received news of the latest murder. That was the biggest lie, now wasn't it? Instead of going to her, he was leaving, had left.**

**Damn it! She's already concluded this! Stupid drunk brain was thinking in circles. Fine, she'd change his lie.**

**Typing away at the keyboard, she spoke aloud in a faux British accent. "Sorry, Detective, but I am leaving. Good-bye. Tell the Britneys they can split their last paycheck or something. Oh, by the way, I'm the Devil, but you know that now, don't you? More than ever." Dropping the accent, she pressed the button with a loud "And send!"**

**Chloe jumped as her phone sounded off and she scurried to grab the phone, only to be confused at the message she just received. Confusion passed quickly, leaving embarrassment and a self-deprecating laugh. She opened the text and started responded before she consciously realized her actions.**

**"I do know, Lucifer, and I don't care. Okay, I do care a bit, but more in the perspective of things. So much of what you said over the years takes a new light and I have so many questions I want to ask, but I can't because you aren't here. And I know it's my fault. I know I reacted exactly how you always feared I would: with rejection. I talked with Linda, or rather she talked to me about how my opinion of you was exactly the reason you hesitated to reveal yourself to me. So, I understand exactly who you are and why you left." She sent the message, hearing his phone vibrate at her feet, but this time she didn't check as she immediately dived into another message.**

**"But I wish you didn't. And it's too late to take it all back, but know that if I could I'd be there for you. I'd be there to help you through what had to be a difficult process--taking your first life isn't easy, even for the Devil. I do want to let you know, however possible, that you did the right thing. I don't hate you. You're still my friend, still someone I trust, someone I can be vulnerable around. And above all you're the best partner I've ever had. I'm so sorry I didn't remember sooner." She sent the message before she could regret it, and then succumbed to the whispers of sleep at last.**

*Six Years Later*

Lucifer slumped against his bed, half conscious on the floor with pills and powder scattered about him.He'd hoped that, due to the two boys' help when Ella appeared, the nightmares wouldn't follow, but he could feel them clawing their way up to his conscious mind before he even had a chance to pull the covers back from his bed. So, instead, he escaped another way, letting his mind fog over with the delight of a high that was over far, far too soon. Bloody celestial metabolism.

During one of his brief escapes, he'd pulled out his phone--his old one that he'd taken from Chloe's hospital room. He held it in his hand, swiping through memories that had somehow been saved. She hadn't deleted anything. No games, no texts, no pictures--not even the pornographic ones, though they'd been sorted into a folder labeled as such and he was positive that hadn't been his doing.

More texts had been added, all from his friends from the LAPD and Maze largely wondering where he was, if he was okay, or cursing him out. Even Trixie had a couple of texts sent to him, asking for his safety, letting him know she was praying to him. The thought made him smile, and he wished he had heard her. Hearing her young voice begging for his return could have been just what he needed to get him out of the dark nightmare.

The only messages he hadn't read were the ones between he and the Detective. She'd sent him a message since he'd left, according to the date received, but the first line, which was displayed in his conversations, terrified him. "But I wish you didn't. And it's too late to take..." the dialogue said. Wish he didn't what? Too late to take what? All he could think was that she wish he hadn't entered her life, shown her his face, killed Marcus... There were so many things could imagine her wishing he hadn't done, so many things he'd taken and things he couldn't take.

With shaky fingers, he tapped the screen to finally view the text. Turns out there was three of them, and the first was one from him that he _knew_ he hadn't sent. What nonsensical concept made someone think he paid the Britneys in a single paycheck? It made him laugh, slightly, and urged him on.

His breath caught in his throat as he read through Chloe's response. Words he never thought he'd hear again, and understanding he'd never imagined reaching, but it had been too late. He'd left and he found himself wishing he hadn't just as much as her--and not just because of the horrors that followed his departure.

The apology at the end, too. At first he wanted to protest it. The Detective hardly had a reason to apologize for reacting poorly to the face of a monster, but she wasn't addressing the monster. Her words were for her partner.

Too bad that man was gone now.

When he finally fell to sleep, nightmares didn't consume him for once. Instead, he found himself in that damned loft with a Detective barely holding it together. As if it was a chance to make up for all the years lost, to change the course of their history, he stepped forward and felt her in his arms again. She was warm and solid and her presence was strong, so unlike the Chloe of his Hell Loop. 

He forgave her. It was easy to do. The woman brought so much joy and strength to the him of six years back that there was nothing he wouldn't do for her here, in this dream. But to Lucifer, the detective was never the problem. 

It was the _Devil_ , after all, who brought chaos and destruction wherever he went.

*

"Lucifer!" Trixie knocked on the glass door, frowning at the dark cafe. It was only half an hour before he opened, slightly earlier than her usual arrival, but there was no evidence the owner had been awake at all. She banged on the door again before looking around for small rocks to throw at his window. "Lu! Come on! Wake up!" she shouted at the floor above the shop, where she knew he slept.

"Trixie?" A voice called to her with a slightly Spanish accent. Two seniors from her school stopped a few feet away from her, fingers looped in their backpack straps.

"Hey, Jesus," Trixie replied, nodding to the two boys. She glanced at the taller one. "You must be..."

"Christian. Nice to finally meet the legendary Trixie," the older, less familiar teen responded, holding out a hand. "Is it true that you punched Mr. Williams in the face last year?"

Trixie pouted slightly. It wasn't one of her prouder moments, but the man wouldn't listen when Maryann had tried to explain why she needed an inhaler! For a gym teacher, he knew very little about health. "Maybe," she mumbled, making Jesus chuckle beside his friend. "You're Jesus's blood brother, right? Well, not blood as in blood relation but..."

"Yeah, that's me. Sorry we haven't met earlier. Oh, and happy birthday!" Christian grinned broadly before tossing a glance at the cafe. "So what brings you to Redeye Roast?"

"I know the owner," Trixie replied.

Jesus jumped at that, slightly, bouncing with energy he always had in vast supply. "Are you the one known for getting free drinks? The favorite customer or something?"

It'd only been a week and she was far too famous here! People needed to stop jumping to conclusions! Not that they were wrong, but that was beside the point! Trixie merely nodded in response. "He's a family friend. What brings you guys here?"

"We just wanted to stop by and check on Lu, make sure he's okay," Jesus replied. "Hold on a sec, though." He turned to Christian who pulled out a coin and flipped it. The two talked quietly for a few moments before Christian patted Jesus on the back and the shorter of the duo left in the direction of school.

At Trixie's inquisitive look, Christian smiled sheepishly. "We need to drop off our project ASAP, so we decided to split the work. Jesus meets with the teacher, I talk with Lu."

"Why wouldn't you think he's okay?" Trixie asked.

Before Christian could explain further, however, the glass door opened between them and a very disheveled Devil turned tired eyes at Trixie. "Apologies, Spawn, I just woke up." His brown eyes drifted over to the other person at his entrance and a scowl formed. "This is your fault, I hope you know. Somehow. Well, come on in, don't keep darkening my doorstep for no reason." He shoved the door slightly to open it further before heading to his counter. Christian caught the glass with his hand, holding it for Trixie and following after her.

"I have prep work to start on so you'll have to make due with bagels and cream cheese. Not a culinary masterpiece but a classic for a reason. What do you want to drink this morning?" Lucifer moved about the kitchen with practice that spoke of years behind the counter, not weeks. His exhaustion made his movements surprisingly _more_ fluid, as if conscious thought is what created his human error and grace was just natural to him.

"I'll just take drip or an americano. I've not much cash on me. And no worries about the bagel." Christian set his bag at his feet as he leaned on the counter. Lucifer turned stern eyes at the youth before snorting.

"You had an americano yesterday with amaretto and an extra shot. I'll make that, keep your money. Spawn?"

"Vanilla latte with honey, please!" Trixie cheered, trying not to resent the other teen preventing her from having a private conversation with the angel. He looked beat and she wanted to help him.

"How come he calls you 'Spawn'?" Christian frowned at her, the expression deepening when she shrugged.

"He calls me a lot of things. Pretty much anything but Trixie."

"Because you're not a hooker, darling," Lucifer replied, turning around and dropping off two toasted bagels with small packets of cream cheese.

"How do you know I won't be in the future?" Trixie argued, though she knew it wasn't in the cards.

"Because that's not where your interest lies. Don't do the industry a disservice by pursuing it with apathy or disdain." Lucifer sniffed defensively as he tilted a couple of shots into a cup and slid the first drink to Christian. Trust the Devil not to consider prostitution anything to be ashamed of. "Besides, how could you be the President of Mars with that kind of background?"

Trixie felt fire light up her face, the heat rising at Christian's choking laughter as coffee spilled down his chin from the initial reaction. Still blushing, Trixie covered her face and spoke to her palms. "That was my dream when I was a _kid_ , Lu! That's not my plan now!"

"Oh? What is it, then? Surely you haven't given up dreams of being in space, at least. Seeing the red planet in person?"

"I don't know! I'm only a teenager! I haven't thought that far into the future!"

Lucifer hummed in acknowledgment before flashing her a brief smile. "Well, whatever you endeavor to be, Beatrice, I have no doubt you'll succeed. You have your mother's determination and Mazikeen's spirit." He placed her drink carefully in front of her and offered Christian a few napkins before resuming his work in the kitchen.

"You still have another year, too, before you have to fill out those stupid career forms," Christian added as he wiped his face, his own cheeks tinged pink from embarrassment. "Instead you get personality tests that pretend to know what you'd want to do."

Trixie laughed. "Yeah, we did that earlier." A bright, tinny tune sounded from her pocket, causing her to pull out her phone quickly, wincing at her mother's name on the screen. "Hold on, I have to take this." She stepped away from the counter, hoping to put enough distance between her and Lucifer that her mom wouldn't hear the man if he spoke. "Hey, Mom! What's up?"

"Hey Trixie, sorry to bother you but I was hoping you could do me a favor and bring me something on your way over after school." Her mom sounded happy, bringing a smile to Trixie's face as she agreed and asked for further details. The conversation was brief, simply asking Trixie to bring her mother some fresh clothes and a particular book. Chloe was refreshed and briefly recanted that she'd had a good dream. "Well, at least it ended good.I'll tell you a bit about it when you visit. But I think Linda's right, this is a chance for a new start."

A little confused, Trixie simply agreed before saying good-bye and hurrying back to Lucifer. She froze partway there when she saw the man standing completely still as he gripped the counter and gazed at nothing. Christian was talking quietly, one hand hovering over the Devil's. "I'm fine," Lucifer snarled after a few moments, turning dark eyes on Trixie before she could even ask the question.

"You're clearly not," the girl retorted and then withered slightly when the distant expression turned angry.

"Hey, Lu, I need you to not look at her for a moment," Christian whispered. "Can you look at me? Tell me, where are you? What's around you?" His hand rested slowly onto the other, ready to pull back at a moment's notice. Lucifer stared at the hand instead of the teen and after a deep breath he obliged the request. "Good, good, we're in your coffee shop. There's just me and Trixie, no one else. You don't need to worry."

Sorrow flashed on Lucifer's face briefly as pulled his hand back, nodding instead of voicing his gratitude.He leaned against the sink behind him, breathing slowly and deeply as he continued to try and level himself.

"What happened?" Trixie inquired in a hushed tone.

Christian smiled apologetically. He watched Lucifer until the man nodded before answering. "Um, an anxiety attack. They can sometimes be a prelude to panic attacks, but this one wasn't as bad as last night's."

"A panic attack?" Trixie frowned. She knew Lucifer was depressed, had seen the haunted look far too often to expect him to be fully okay. However, his small smiles and his usual blase attitude assured her that that was all, that time would bring him back to full strength.

"Yeah, it's pretty common symptom of PTSD, so I've seen it before. Both Jesus and my father suffer from it, though what triggers it varies from person to person and I've no idea what Lu's stressers are." He turned a wary eye to the man in question who simply shook his head, unwilling to divulge that bit of information. Christian shrugged. "Helping people calm down is a bit of trial and error each time, but I could help you out if you wished."

"That sounds great!" Trixie smiled weakly, feeling a little better at the prospect of being able to help Lucifer. Maybe she could consult Linda too, if she could figure out a way to ask without giving the Devil away.

"For now, you little cretins should get out. I've a store to open." Lucifer didn't meet their eyes, but his movements had returned to normal as he spun around to finish setting up. The high schoolers picked up their belongings and Trixie balancing her drink and bagel as she prepared to leave. Halfway to the exit, Lucifer called back. "Oh, and Christian? If you're interested in a part time job, feel free to stop by after school."

*

Christian studied the paper before him with just a touch of confusion. Penned at the bottom was possibly the most elegant signature he had ever seen, but the real surprise was the name written. "Lucifer Morningstar," Christian read aloud. Looking up from the paper, he caught the eye of the coffee shop owner who simply shrugged in response and drank from a cup that smelled of whiskey. "And you said my name was unfortunate? No wonder you go by Lu."

A predatory grin spread across the man's face and Christian began to wonder why he was agreeing to this. "I assure you, I'm not bothered by my name. 'Lu' is simply less conspicuous, which suits my purposes."

"Sure, sure," Christian agreed.

"It's not important anyway. You do understand what I'm asking you to do, yes?" Lu drained his cup and then frowned at it's empty status before filling it up again--definitely whiskey. "You're not just handling drinks and the register."

"Yeah, I get it. In your absence I'll be in charged, but otherwise I'm just an assistant," Christian said. "And I'm to help you during any of your attacks?" At Lu's nod, Christian grimaced. "I'm willing to do this, Lu, but I also think you should seek professional help. I can't always be here."

"Not happening. I tried the whole therapy route."

"Fine, maybe at least consider getting a service animal? They're said to ground people in the present when panic attacks happen. Neither my father nor Jesus's have one because they're expensive, but if you could find a way to afford one, then I think you'd find it helpful."

"I won't subject myself to have to care for an animal," Lucifer huffed, draining the second cup. How on earth was he not drunk yet?

"Just a suggestion. Keep it in mind, at least?"

"Fine. Anyway, I'll be teaching you and the urchin, but after you two get a handle on things, your friend--Jesus--is welcome to join as well. I'm not against two employees if it'll make things easier on everyone." A third cup of whiskey and a brief glance out of the small room they were in. "For now, I'll do what I can to instruct as we go. We have customers."

Christian hadn't even signed his paperwork yet, but he sprung to his feet and followed Lu out to the floor. The older man was fascinating to watch. He was charming and handsome; the fact that a majority of the customers flirted with him was evidence of that. Confidence exuded from him and he never seemed to question his actions, entirely self-assured.

It was such a far cry from the man he became during the attacks Christian had witnessed that curiosity plagued the teen. What caused him to react so poorly? He couldn't find a connection between the scenarios--the first he'd just stared out at the street lamps and the second he'd watched Trixie with such intensity that chilled the air around him.

And then there was Trixie herself. He didn't know her very well, but Jesus described her as seemingly innocent but a fighter. There were endless rumors surrounding her: she could pick a lock and hot wire a car; knew more about drugs than anyone else in the school; fought like a before; spoke a language no one had heard before but was frightening. All this while being the daughter of two cops. Yet all of that paled in comparison to how she effected the mystery that called himself Lucifer. 

He was one part playboy cafe owner, one part traumatized fighter, but neither of those parts existed when Trixie walked into the cafe. His face lit up as if a darkness Christian hadn't noticed before was lifted and the burden Lu carried like Atlus carried the world was set aside for a little while. Trixie herself didn't seem to notice, skipping past the short line and stepping behind the counter to give Lucifer a brief hug. The physical contact caused Lu to freeze slightly before awkwardly returning it.

"Hey, Lu, I can't stay for lessons today, but I will be by first thing tomorrow." She flashed a bright smile before hesitantly adding, "Also, we're celebrating Mom's release from the hospital Friday. I'm assuming you can't make it?"

The man shook his head slowly, frowning as he stepped back. "Sorry, Beatrice. I have my responsibilities here."

Trixie sighed. "That's not why you're not going, but I supposed it's as good an excuse as any. You can't hide from them forever,Lu." She shrugged and nodded at Christian. "You're invited too, if you want to go. So long as you bring Jesus, I mean. The more the merrier."

"That sounds like a brilliant idea!" Lu cheered. "You can be my ambassador, Christian!" He hummed to himself for a brief moment. "I suppose bringing specialized drinks would be too obvious, along with top shelf alcohol."

Trixie laughed. "I mean, I've been collecting everyone's favorites, but maybe. Mostly because I don't know Maze's. Either she adds alcohol to whatever coffee she pours from the machine or she takes someone else--and then adds alcohol to that."

"That's Mazikeen for you," Lu replied with a small laugh of his own. "And you're not far off, Child. Maze's caffeine drink of choice is strong, black and with an unhealthy amount of whiskey."

"So, your drink of choice," Christian responded, rolling his eyes. Lucifer's smile grew and reached his eyes, dancing with mirth. All at once, the full realization of Lucifer's charm hit the teen and he couldn't help but smile back.

"No drinks then. I'll find something suitable by Friday, though. I promise."

*

Friday crawled ever so slowly for Trixie, with her week largely being drawn out by visiting Lucifer and finishing projects as the third quarter was reaching an end. By the time the fifth day of the school week hit, she was practically dancing from her seat, impatiently working out rules with her friends for the club and then running out of the school the moment the bell rang. She barely managed to call out a reminder to them about the party before she booked it to Redeye Roast for a quick hello and then sprinted home, drink in hand. Dan teased her about her growing addiction to caffeine, but she merely stuck her tongue out at her father, fully embracing her inner child. 

Meeting Maze and Chloe at the hospital, the four of them drove towards Lux as the fashionably late guest of honor and her entourage. Chloe stepping into the familiar club resulted in a hail of "Congratulations!" complete with a banner held by Ella displaying the words "Congrats you're not dead!" Her mother rolled her eyes but the smile on her face spoke more than anything of just how much she appreciated the party.

Friends and family celebrated, drinks and cake passed around as if it were another birthday. Many cops discussed cases and welcomed her back, knowing it'd be a fair bit before she was given the clear to actually return to work. Trixie watched her mother go between people from the bar, her friends beside her. She had to keep an eye on the drinks to make sure Maze didn't slip any alcohol into them, but otherwise it was relaxing. This, honestly, was better than her birthday not a week prior.

"You know, I'm starting to think I'm becoming a drink snob," Maryann confessed, the shorter girl sipping her drink. "Lu makes the best Italian soda."

"He makes the best everything," Sarah replied. She frowned at Christian and waved her soda at him. "You're lucky you get to learn from him."

"I don't think I'm lucky," Christian mumbled. "He's surprisingly picky about _everything_ being just right, and he's strict with me while completely forgiving to Trix. " He had no drink in hand, but instead a small envelope, which he pointed at Trixie for emphasis. "She's the lucky one."

"I am." Trixie shrugged and set her own cup down on the counter. "But not because of Lu, because of everyone." She gestured to the entirety of the club and then laughed when her friends rolled their eyes.

Noah, probably her longest standing friend, pushed himself to sit on the counter, resting his feet on the stool so that his knees pressed against his chest. "We're moving on the club idea, right? Why not just make Redeye Roast our base of operations?"

"Redeye Roast? What's that?" Ella Lopez slipped into the group, her youthful attitude and appearance almost blending in with the teens.She waved to Patrick behind the counter as he handed her a drink, one that definitely contained alcohol.

"A cafe near our high school," Sarah explained. "It's great. The owner--"

"Makes the best coffee! But it's terribly busy. All the time. Long lines," Trixie interrupted, smiling weakly. Ella raised an eyebrow at the awkward reaction.

"O...kay? Well, I'm glad it's good?" The forensic scientist glanced between the high school students and then shuffled away, a bit confused and more than a little worried.

Trixie let out a sigh of relief, hearing it echoed by Christian, though five pairs of eyes seemed more than a little confused. Fishing for an explanation, Trixie lied. "Lu's not a fan of the police."

"Huh? Why not?" Maryann questioned. "He seems like a nice enough guy."

"Really? Have you seen the amount of alcohol that man puts in his coffee? To say nothing of the drugs." Christian rubbed his head. "I mean, it's a miracle sometimes that he's still standing."

"He does _drugs_?" Sarah said, aghast.

"Sometimes, and don't hold it against him. He has his reasons," Christian explained. "I... Actually shouldn't have said anything about it. Forget it, please."

After an awkward pause, Jesus jumped in, pointing at Christian's envelope. "What's that letter you have?"

"It's not a letter, actually. It's um... Paintball tickets."

"Paintball tickets?" Noah inquired.

"Yeah. From Lu, for Ms. Decker." Christian winced slightly. "He figured it'd be a great chance for Ms. Decker to hang out with her family as well as catch up on her um... Marksmanship?"

Trixie snorted at Christian's delivery. He thought the gift was weird to give a recently released hospital patient, but Trixie imagined the consideration that went into it. Something that wouldn't give him away, but Chloe would still enjoy? Why not an event she could do with others? Ella and Maze were easy to imagine running across a paintball field, ruthlessly sniping the other team. It could be the Deckers and Dan against the rest of the tribe.

"Mom will love it."


	7. Devil's Advocate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again thank you for all the kudos and comments!
> 
> I am officially going to start posting this story on a bi-weekly schedule--every Wednesday and Saturday. If I find myself getting busy, I may change it to once a week (Wednesday), but for now I think this'll be a good schedule

**Leave, leave, _leave_. Why wouldn't those two just get out of the way? They clearly had no need for what they were disposing, but he did. A real, substantial need, like an addict desperate for his next hit. But instead, they took his "drug" and lit it aflame, watching and talking while the smell of burnt flesh and hair permeated the air. The psychopaths just _chatted_ while they committed such an atrocity, like this was just another Tuesday night.**

**When they finally left, he hurried out of his hiding place, hands shaking as he approached the dumpster. Maybe something survived the flames. Maybe now was his chance to finally get what he always wanted. He vaulted into the container without hesitation and began moving through hot ash and plastic, the stench almost causing him to vomit.**

**The old him would have been repulsed by his actions, dignity and power being his greatest beliefs, but the old him was a fool. The new him wasn't much better, a man suspended between Heaven and Hell as he searched for his proof, a replacement for his need. He'd had this proof once, but had it torn from him. Instead, he sought out a substitute. No, he wanted the real thing back, but he wasn't suicidal. Especially since he knew where he was going.**

**If he was going to Hell when he died, though, he'd enjoy as much Heaven as possible before he left.**

**The dumpster was empty of any surviving pieces. Hours of digging through the contents left a sobbing man who barely managed to pull himself out of the garbage. Another failure. He thought for sure he'd be successful this time. After all, _that man had his wings back_. There had to be an opportunity to get a piece of divinity.**

**Several months later, a chance came from an unexpected source. A police contact reached out to him, informing the man of several white feathers, bloodied, and the blood matched no creature they knew of. Only a few of the feathers could be retrieved--the rest had been taken into evidence as it was connected to a crime involving a lieutenant. It was enough, though. At least for now.**

**Their divinity had been diminished, the glow he knew was there faint if not absent, but there was no doubt that these belonged to wings of an angel.  
**

*Six Years Later*

March ended and April stepped comfortably into its shoes as the weather warmed. Trixie's group still struggled to find a place to have their odd club, but while it was the seven of them, Lu didn't complain about their extended stay in his cafe. Trixie felt like she was intruding, however, even if one of their club members worked behind the counter.

Christian settled into his role perfectly, as well, and was not ashamed to use the group as guinea pigs for his efforts. They'd tried to protest at first--especially Sara--but simply reminding them that they got their drinks for free silenced them. The part-timer's confidence grew as well around them, and they teased him about letting Lu influence him too much.

"I think there's worse role models," Jesus noted. "Just don't start doing drugs."

"Oh, I won't. I'm more worried about some of you guys." Christian winked jokingly at them before returning to the counter. Lucifer wasn't back there, having slipped away for a few moments and leaving the teen to handle things. Trixie wasn't entirely sure about the legality of that, but no one who frequented the store would ever put up a fuss. Besides, Christian looked old enough to work alone.

"Okay, between Christian and Lu, who would you date?" Sarah asked the group, once they were alone again. 

Jesus choked on his drink and shot the girl a withering glare. "Can we not have this conversation while I'm around?"

"Oh come on, just because you're the only one who isn't interested in either. Would you rather I ask who at this table you'd date?"

"I'd rather we talk about celebrities or something! People we don't see on a day to day basis, people who aren't _family_! You're with me, right Trixie?" Jesus glanced desperately at Beatrice. Instead of support, though, she just shrugged.

"I'm not interested in either um... Either, but I don't see why they can't talk about it?"

Noah laughed softly as he sipped his drink. "The issue is Christian is vastly out of his league. No one in their right mind wouldn't think Lu was the superior choice." The blonde flashed a cheeky grin towards Christian who, unable to hear the conversation, simply returned it with an awkward nod.

"I don't know, my mom wasn't particularly taken with him when they first met," Trixie stated absently. She grimaced at the expressions turned her direction at that. Those looks were begging for more, knowing Trixie was a font of information when it came to their favorite barista. "Uh uh, I'm not spilling anything. I'm sworn to secrecy."

"Come on, Trixie, you're being unfair," Maryann whined, leaning into her friend while begging.

"If you have any questions about Lu, you can ask him yourself. He doesn't lie," Trixie responded, knowing full well they'd asked questions only to have him evade answering entirely, or give vague responses.

"We could just ask Ms. Decker," Esther, the quietest member of their group whispered. She brushed back long, black hair and stared at the table. Sarah clapped her on the back and a small smile showed on the shy girl's face.

"She's right! We can ask Trixie's mom!"

"No!" Trixie protested. "Please, you guys have to promise not to mention Lu or the cafe to my mom at _all_. Or to my dad, Maze, Dr. Martin, or Ella. Please." Prepared for the why not she slammed a hand on the table the moment Sarah opened her mouth. "I'm working hard to get them reunited, but if you rush things we could lose Lu entirely. All my effort would be for nothing." Tears formed at the corner of her eyes, not as fake as she hoped they were. "Please. I just want Lu to be happy."

Heaving a sigh, Sarah set her drink down and leaned back. "Fine, but give us _something_ about him that's interesting? One thing to satisfy our curiosity."

Trixie shifted in her seat as she thought about it, before a smile grew on her face and she realized just what she could admit. "Lu's the Devil. Ask him if you don't believe me."

*

The last fifteen minutes of class had become free time. The test they'd received was finished by all but one student, who was huddled in a corner in frustration as he worked out the last few questions as quickly as possible. The frequency he glanced at the clock on the wall indicated he was probably doomed. Still, they had a substitute teacher, so leniency was more likely.

Mrs. Berkley had to take maternal leave, her child born a couple months early and making the school panic to find a replacement. They were on the third history teacher--a Mr. Grant who appeared friendly enough if prone to drifted off mid-sentence. From the sounds of things, he was likely to stay, which may have been why he was seriously working at the desk, arranging class plans as best he could to make up for lost time in the syllabus. Or so he claimed when Noah had asked.

His distraction meant a fair bit of extra time for chatter, resulting in an organized chaos of students congregating around their friends. Trixie sat in her desk with Sarah perched on it opposite of her. Maryann and Noah flanked her sides, having pulled up chairs from the neighboring seats. More than half of the club was here, which made it about as ideal as possible for planning during school hours. Esther, Jesus, and Christian were of higher grades, and Trixie texted them whenever something important was discussed.

"A name should be one part," Noah mumbled around a slice of apple. 

"Really? We're a glorified study group. Why do we need a name?" Maryann asked.

"I think we need one too! We don't _just_ study. We hang out, we practice fighting, we do all kinds of things." Sarah folded her arms across her chest as she stared at the paper on Trixie's desk. It simply listed event ideas for the future.

"So a glorified 'go home' club. We're just friends hanging out," Maryann retorted. She tugged at her curly hair as she, too, studied the paper.

"Well, I want it to be open for others to hang out," Trixie added. "I mean, I think it'd be fun if we made it an event club? With studying as a condition. When tests are finished, or major milestones reached, we go out and do something fun? Something like that. A balance between fun and responsible." She grinned awkwardly when Sarah frowned. "I've been doing that since I was seven. Between Maze and Mom, I had to learn to be crafty and still a good student."

"Why not Devil's Advocate?" Noah suggested.

"We're kind of the opposite of that, aren't we? If we go with Trixie's idea," Maryann replied, though it was almost a given they would. Even Trixie had to admit she was the de facto leader, due to a mixture of Lu treating her as such and her own automatic habit of taking charge.

"Sure, but that's a part of the fun, isn't it? Besides, then we can claim Lu as an honorary member. He is, after all _the Devil_ ," Noah said teasingly, his hands drifting in the air as if summoning magic or a rainbow. The three girls chuckled at the gesture. 

When the others had confronted Lu about Trixie's claim, he'd agreed easily, though he added a conspiratorial "don't tell anyone." Trixie apologized the following morning for telling them, but he'd merely waved it off without a concern. "I don't hide who I am, just where I am right," he told her.

"Devil's Advocate Club actually sounds great," Trixie commented, typing away the name suggestion to the missing members. Jesus and Esther replied immediately with a "sounds great" and a thumbs up respectively.

"We still need a room, though," Sarah groaned, reading her phone as the messages went through.

"I may have a solution to your problem." All four teenagers started at the newcomer, turning to their substitute teacher, who was holding a stack of papers.He handed a few stapled papers to each of them as he continued. "Since Mrs. Berkley isn't here, I'll be taking over for the rest of the year. While temporary, I'd be willing to let you have your club meet here after school. I'll even be your advisor if you don't have one." He smiled affably. "Devil's Advocate Club? Drop off a rough draft of the club idea and we'll see what we can do, if you want."

"Really? That'd be great!" Maryann cheered, sitting up. That had been their biggest obstacle.

After Mr. Grant left, though, Sarah leaned into the group and whispered "Well, Lu is the real advisor in my opinion, but I guess Mr. Grant could be on paper."

*

A month or so of working with Lucifer Morningstar had certainly been enlightening. Thankfully, the secondary duties the man had assigned Christian hadn't been a common occurrence. Since signing the papers, only three attacks had happened in his presence, and only one of those had resulted in Lucifer snapping at everyone before retreating to his own form of safety.

Still, Christian felt way out of his depth. He couldn't see a connection between the events and Lu wasn't forthcoming about his own problems, saying it wasn't necessary to pull him back. And what about when Christian wasn't around? A stray comment from his boss revealed that Lu was more worried about incidents at night, but Christian could only stay until the store closed. He'd pushed for the idea of a service animal again, but was brushed off once more.

The fact Lu called himself the Devil--likely inspired by his parent's twisted idea of naming conventions--only worried the teenager more. None of the others shared his concerns, except Trixie when he approached her in private. Lucifer was so adept at hiding his thoughts and instead projecting his charming persona that Christian wondered if he had taken acting lessons.

Still, when Christian wasn't actively contemplating Lucifer's attacks, he felt comfortable around the man. Sure, Lu was picky about how things needed to be run behind the counter, but he was lax about everything else. Christian didn't even have a set schedule. He could just show up when he wanted to and work for as long as possible. The pay--far more than any reasonable person would pay a rookie barista--was just additional incentive.

There were also two things that utterly fascinated the teenager. The first was Trixie, obviously. How she transformed him and how he integrated himself so seamlessly into her friend circle. Their relationship came off as family more than anything.

The second was the stories. Lucifer had endless tales to recant, troubles he'd gotten into when he was younger and people he'd helped throughout the years. Some sounded preposterous, others seemed to be veiled in metaphors, like he was trying to hide the worst moments of his youth from his employee. Whatever life Lu had led, it'd been varied and equal parts moral and immoral.

The best stories, though, were the rarest. Events from when he worked as a detective of sorts were remembered fondly and with more than a little humor. One time when he threw a man through a wall of cocaine, or another when he pretended to be married to his lieutenant. Each crime was unique and seemed fun, probably some of the best experiences Lu had had judging by his expression.

If only he didn't look so broken after, as if he'd had the best moments of his life and then had them taken from him to never be experienced again. Christian wanted to ask why, but was slowly coming to acknowledge it was connected to whatever left him traumatized.

Instead, he asked the one person who could know. "Why'd he quit?" he questioned Trixie one evening. The rest of the club had already gone home, excitedly talking about how tomorrow was the day the club would start officially in school.

"Hm?" Trixie tilted her head in confusion at the nonsequitor.

"Lu. Why'd he quit being a detective?"

"He wasn't a detective. He was a consultant." The response came not from Trixie, but instead a tall, dark man who approached the table. Trixie lit up at the sight of the man and stood up to hug hum.

"Amenadiel! What brings you around here?"

"Oh, you know, just checking in on my little brother." Amenadiel returned the hug before looking around. "Where is he?"

"Lucifer's out, but he usually returns within an hour." Leaning forward conspiratorially, Trixie added in a stage whisper "I don't think he trusts Christian to be alone much longer than that."

"Hey!" Christian protested. "I handle things just fine." He schooled his expression, hoping the heat he felt wasn't visible on his cheeks. The man, Amenadiel, chuckled.

"Well, I'm glad he has someone he can trust at all." Holding out a hand, he introduced himself. "Amenadiel, Lucifer's older brother."

"Christian, Lu's sole employee." After they shook hands, Christian pushed forward. "So, why did he quit being a consultant?"

"Luci's a man driven by himself," Amenadiel responded vaguely. "When faced with a wall he can do nothing about, he either bangs his head against it until it submits or goes an entirely different route in order to avoid it. This route, unfortunately, took him away from us." His voice was tinged with sadness.

"So, something traumatic happened to him and he ran?"

"Not to _him_ ," Amenadiel cryptically corrected. "But it's not my tale to tell. Luci means well, though. He's a good man"

"Such grand praise, brother," Lucifer grumbled as he entered the store and the conversation. "Stop distracting the help. There are people in need of our services."

Christian tried to bite back a laugh at how inappropriate Lu's tone turned at the end, but the grin on his boss's face indicated he wasn't entirely successful and the teasing tone had been intentional.

"Mocha with extra whip and chocolate, still?" Lu inquired, walking away without getting a reply. Christian tossed a shrug at the other two before hurrying to work.

*

Ella banged her head on the table before her, hard. Dead end, dead end, it was getting tiring. The vic's house was scrubbed clean by real professionals and the only real hint she'd received about who the culprit could be was a picture of the victim in what looked like a camping group, set outside a log cabin with a large banner spread before the group that simply read "Grand Opening!" These people were the only people the victim seemed to be in contact with directly, and since there was no sign of forced entry they were the best lead.

Unfortunately, nothing about the picture or the people was particularly helpful. They were running facial recognition, but Ella was quickly losing hope. Whoever had done this had cleaned up pretty damn well.

"How about you take a break and come back refreshed?" Trent offered, the uniformed officer kneeling beside Ella with a concerned expression.

"I'm with Trent," Dan said as he paced in a circle and ran his hand through his hair in frustration. He'd spent all day interviewing the neighbors only to find out no one really knew Sally. "We should all call it a night for now. Want a ride back?" Dan glanced at the forensic scientist who shook her head slowly.

"No, I think I'll take a walk. Clear my head."

"Okay. See you tomorrow then?" Dan offered her a weak smile that she returned.

"Yeah. Bright and early."

Separating from the group and moving out on foot did help clear her head, but not her frustrations. The neighborhood was quiet, and Sally Monroe had been killed violently, almost ritualistically. She had to have screamed, but no one heard a thing? Ella rubbed her head. She wasn't a detective, not like Chloe or Dan. Her perspective was tied to scientific evidence.

But evidence failed her so far. There were no finger prints, not even the victim's. No blood except an extremely small amount under the body, but also no signs of the body having been moved. There were needle marks, but Sally was known to use heroine in the past. The marks on her body were from knives, generic and minor except the large one on her stomach. No traces of drugs in her system, either.

"Which is strange," Ella muttered as she strolled down the street. "The needle marks were fresh, but she didn't have heroine in her system. What if... What if someone drained her blood instead of put something in it?" She stopped and pulled out her phone, quickly sending a message to precinct to check out the details.

"How did they get her to stay still for so long, though?" Without drawing attention, she mentally added. No blunt force trauma had been spotted. But maybe...

"Okay, take a break, recover and head back to the scene," Ella told herself, continuing on her stroll.

"Or head back to the scene tomorrow. The crime isn't going anywhere." Rae-Rae walked up beside her, coming up out of no where as usual. The ghost smiled briefly in greeting.

"But the criminal might," Ella countered.

"I doubt it. You think a criminal would clean up so well if they didn't intend on sticking around?" Rae held her hands behind her back and walked with exaggerated footsteps beside Ella.

"If they did it to delay the police coming after them, they might."

"Cleaning must have taken _hours_. They would have been better running off after a brief clean up.They don't want to be found because they want to continue with their lives." Rae's expression turned grim.

"It almost sounds like you know who did this."

"I don't, but I wish I did." Faintly, the ghost whispered "she seemed so happy being deceived."

"What do you mean? Who was happy?" Ella stopped again, frowning at her friend. Rae shook her head but Ella stepped closer, invading the spirit's personal space. "No, Rae, what do you know?"

"Nothing much!" Rae-Rae conceded, hands held up. "I just um... I saw her ghost, briefly. She seemed happy to be dead. Talked about Heaven on Earth or something."

"Happy?" Actually that lined up, at least with the lack of resistance. Did that make her complicit with her own murder? She turned on her feet to run back to the crime scene, but Rae moved in the way. While only a visual obstruction, not a physical one, the scientist did hesitate. Walking through friends was just rude, after all. "What, Rae-Rae?"

"I need you to promise to get some rest before you continue your investigation, Ella. You've already been at this for too long." When Ella didn't immediately agree, Rae sighed. "If you do, I'll tell you the other thing she mentioned. It might not help, but it could be something."

"What did she mention?"

"Uh-uh. Break first. Sleep, relax, something. I'll tell you tomorrow."

Ella frowned, wanting to ask Rae how she could trust her but since Rae-Rae had convinced her to stay in LA, the ghost had been surprisingly upfront and a huge support, especially when Ella lost her friends. Sighing, the forensic scientist realized she needed every bit of information she could get, and admittedly a bit of time off. "Fine. But first thing tomorrow."

"Agreed. See you tomorrow." The ghost vanished.

Spinning around once more, Ella went over the case again. Just because she was going to sleep soon, didn't mean she couldn't contemplate her options before that. As she walked, she slowed at a faintly familiar sight. Two R's intertwined, like the ones from the cups Trixie brought along with her so often. It was seven, late for a cafe to be open, but the sign at the front was glowing and a few people were still inside. Maybe she could slip in for a drink, delay her return home in favor of caffeine and an internal conversation.

The door rang happily as she entered and she breathed in the scent of fresh coffee and pastries. Grinning at the kid behind the counter, she approached with new found energy, as if she'd already had a couple of cups. The teenager's tag said 'Christian' and he greeted her with a brilliant smile. He was vaguely familiar, too, though she wasn't entirely sure. Maybe he was one of Trixie's friends?

Behind him, the "employee's only" door opened and a voice calling for the teen's attention reached her ears. The sound pounded in her ears, dragging forth a memory long buried until the owner of the voice stepped out, a box in hand. 

Their eyes locked and both people froze. When the man finally spoke, his words were barely more than a breath. "Miss Lopez..."

"Lucifer?" Ella choked out. "What the hell are you doing here?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so, um, see you on Saturday!


	8. This is Your Dream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still Saturday! Sorry it's so late in the day, was out all day picking up a new kitty! (Unnamed, but Lucifer has already been vetoed by the husband)

**The first few weeks, or even a bit longer, Ella hadn't been worried about Lucifer's absence. The consultant had always been unpredictable, and she knew firsthand how he avoided problems if they dealt with emotional stuff, especially Chloe-related emotional stuff. The only part that had really bothered her about his initial absence was how much Chloe stressed over it, as if she blamed herself for him running away. However, any attempt at soothing her concerns only seemed to make things worse.**

**As time crawled on, however, even the forensic scientist began to freak out. It only escalated when everything started to change. Patrick and Maze took over Lux, claiming ownership in Lucifer's absence. Chloe was assigned a new partner to work cases with her. The constant whispers of a strange club owner who granted favors also faded, some with relief over not having to repay a debt.**

**Eventually, she couldn't help but push the subject. "Should we put in a missing persons report? Start a search?" she'd asked, before having it brushed off.**

**"If I can't find him, what makes you think the LAPD could do a damn thing?" Mazikeen growled. "He's gone somewhere none of us can go, not without assistance. And even then..." Her eyes trailed over the three women before her, finishing the gesture with a roll of her eyes. "You all are too pure."**

**"But surely we can do _something_ ," Ella protested. However, no one had any suggestions, and the ones she provided were quickly shot down. It almost felt like they all knew where he was, but didn't want to bring him back. Or couldn't.**

**Worst case scenarios plagued her mind and she began to freak out sometimes, wondering if every body she was called on scene to identify could be his. Of course, she hid her concerns behind her usual cheery personality and dark humor. No one was the wiser. Except, Ella's oldest friend.**

**"He's not dead, you know," Rae-Rae said one evening when Ella stayed late in the lab.**

**"And how do you know that?" Ella mumbled as she carefully arranged the fragments of metal they'd found at the crime scene. It hadn't been long since they lost Charlotte--and Pierce, even, who had been scum but at one time a friend. The feeling of loss was still raw, making her hesitant to cling to Rae's tiny bit of hope.**

**"Um... Ghost rules?" Rae replied, as unsure of her answer as Ella. When the scientist shot her ghost friend an exasperated look, Rae shrugged. "Look, I don't know how to explain it, but I know he's not dead. And I will know if he does die, because I'm watching for it. If he passes, you'll be the first to know, so don't worry about him unless I do."**

**While said with confidence, Rae's delivery would've been more reassuring if _she_ hadn't sounded worried. Ella breathed deeply, rubbing her face to combat the fatigue steadily creeping up on her. "Fine," she agreed with a nod of her head. "Fine, I'll try, but I make no promises."**

**Maybe it was grim to talk with a ghost about watching for her friend's spirit to cross the threshold, but it was something. Faintly, Ella wondered if a man who called himself the Devil could make it to Heaven. Despite his claims to the contrary, she couldn't imagine him deserving anything less.**

*Six Years Later*

Multitasking was second nature to the Devil, which was a boon when running a coffee shop. He easily switched between addressing customers and conversing with his brother, all while handling drinks when Christian fell behind. The fact Amenadiel continued to touch his nerves just made this accomplishment all the more amazing, at least in Lucifer's opinion.

"I'm surprised you hired help," Amenadiel noted, sipping his overly sweet drink with a big smile.

"Christian?" Lucifer's lips quirked up at Amenadiel snort over the name. "He's a friend of the Spawn, so I thought if anyone would cover for me in my absence, it'd be someone with her stamp of approval."

"He seems like a good kid."

This time, Lucifer chuckled at the comment. "I'll let him know he has heavenly approval, too," he teased before handing a drink off to a lovely lady, who offered him her phone number in return. He slid the paper in to his pocket with a sly grin and a wink before returning to the register. Both Christian and Amenadiel wore frowns at his actions, but didn't comment. Good, they were learning.

"What are you doing down here, though, Brother?" Lucifer asked, arching an eyebrow at the angel. "I thought you'd be joyously celebrating your return home, not slumming it with the humans anymore."

Amenadiel hummed slightly at that, taking a long drink of his mocha before responding. "I was there for six years, Luci, and apparently because of that, I didn't realize the trouble you were in. I... Whatever mistakes you may have done, you don't deserve that."

Meaning, Amenadiel was watching over Lucifer. The thought would've been pleasant, if it didn't smell like Dad all over.A snarl carved itself onto the Devil's face. Can't have a broken King of Hell? What were they doing with that monarchy in his absence anyway? Of course Amenadiel would want Lucifer "healed" and back in Hell as soon as possible. Whatever sibling was stuck--

"I want you to take all the time you need, Lucifer, but I do think you should reach out to the others. I'm pretty sure you miss them just as much as they miss you." His older brother stood up, kind and angelic smile on his face, and patted Lucifer on the shoulder before leaving.

Lucifer frowned, his stomach twisting in knots. He so desperately wanted to take Amenadiel's words at face value, but he knew better. Even without his father's influence, there was one absolute certainty in his life, one that was etched into his soul in the most brutal way possible over the past several years. No one could ever truly love the Devil.

He'd learned this truth in pieces all the time. Chloe ran after she saw his face, learned the truth. His mother wanted who he was before or a tool. Amenadiel only saw a test, something to triumph over. Mazikeen betrayed him and Dr. Linda just got hurt over and over again.

Even the Spawn's friends, and especially Beatrice herself and his employee Christian, were only attached because they didn't know the truth. The teenagers acted as if his Devil nature was a gimmick or metaphor, as humans were wont to do, and Trixie had only been graced with his angelic nature. If they were forced to face reality, they'd leave him just as assuredly as all the others.

But he was selfish. He kept his darker bits inside in order to protect himself. _Just this one small piece of comfort. Please._

Christian was watching Lu with a concerned expression, making the Devil realize he must have spaced out again and the teen was waiting to jump into action. Snapping out of his daze, Lucifer grinned at the customer, who wore an equally concerned expression, and resumed work as if nothing happened. Christian said nothing, never asked about what caused Lu's panic or breakdowns. Good kid, indeed. Far better than Lucifer deserved.

"We need to refill the sugar packets by the door," Christian muttered after a few moments, in a brief lull of customers. "Want to do it, or should I?" The out was obvious, a chance for Lucifer to escape the floor and collect himself properly.

Guilt at how Lucifer was using the child echoed in beats in his head, but Lu flashed a brief smile. "What kind of boss would I be if I constantly made you do all the grunt work?" he joked before sliding towards the back room.

"Like every other boss of a small store like this," Christian tossed back, smiling confidently. "But, I guess that makes you better than them."

Far too damn good for the Devil to keep up this friendship. Lucifer sighed and let the door close behind him. After a steadying breath, he found a wall to prop up and rubbed a hand over his face. Staying here too long would have Christian coming back to make sure it wasn't an "attack," but every moment in the brightly lit back room did help him sort through his thoughts. Whether that was a good thing or not was debatable.

A few deep, controlled breaths, and Lucifer strolled into the room, opening a cabinet and sliding out a few boxes. He grabbed an empty box--one that had seen repeated use similar to this--and tossed an abundance of sugar and sugar substitute packs, creating an array of colors reminiscent of Easter and Spring.

The similarity brought a smile to his lips as he exited the room, box in hand. Calling to the help, he began to echo his thoughts but fumbled when his eyes locked onto the customer at the desk. Short, smiling, and usually filled with enough energy that coffee was unnecessary around her, Ella Lopez seemed equally frozen staring at him.

"Miss Lopez..." he whispered, moving his mouth to form more words. But what words? A greeting? A joke? A clumsy explanation of why he left--one she would never believe but would accept regardless? Or would she accept it anymore? He'd seen her enraged before, and while he was more likely to compare it to a kitten than a lion, he knew she could berate him easily. She would be in her rights to do so, too.

The world felt cold around him, his fingers numb and empty. The box must've fallen without him noticing, which was probably a bad sign. He could tell the light was dimming around him too, except that blasted star twinkling in the back, or was it a street light?

Ella's mouth was moving, but the words he heard didn't match her lips, like a bad dub over. "You used me as a replacement!" she hissed at him and he could hear the hurt in her voice, if not painted on her face. The words were familiar now, almost memorized. "You thought that I could just be a pretend Azrael, or some other sibling, because you deliberately left me in the dark!"

He wanted to protest. He did think of her as a sibling of sorts, but never a replacement for the ones he lost. She was different, a ray of light as Azrael had described her. However, he didn't see the point as he knew that wasn't the worst of his crimes, not even in relation to Miss Lopez.

"You hid the truth from me. My brother is a criminal! And you won't ever tell me because you think you have the right to dictate what I know and don't know! Even when I came this close to returning to that same crooked brother!" At some point, her mouth had stopped moving. She appeared frightened, not for herself but for him as indicated by the outstretched hand. Still, the angry words roared in his ears and the hand seemed to began to crumble before him, turning gray at the tips and consuming all warmth from the usually bright scientist.

"You asked me to have faith while hiding a crime, a crime your mother committed with the intent to kill many, many humans. And I did have faith, you made me complicit didn't you?" She took a step forward and he felt a hand on his arm, but jerked away as the image of Ella fell forward on broken legs, the limbs now dust. She lay on the ground, clearly dying, but still Lucifer didn't move and still the words echoed in his head.

"And you made me care for you, trust you. You, the King of Hell, the Lord of LIes, the _Devil_ made a good Catholic girl trust evil incarnate, question her faith. If I go to Hell, you know it's your fault."

Darkness filled his vision, and the rant repeated again as he realized he was falling, his consciousness ending when his head hit the floor.

*

By the time Dan came home, Chloe had just finished her book for the second time that day. She slipped a bookmark into the pages and set it aside, noting Dan's roaming eye to figure out what she had been engrossed in. Embarrassed, she let him see the title of the young adult's book, hoping he wouldn't realize why she was reading the unfinished "Class of 3000" again. Moving on was a slow process, made worse by her unconscious providing her with memories of a man she thought she'd already given up on. Last night had been the damned prom dream, though the dance had lasted longer, the conversation been sweeter, and they hadn't been alone. Like a hybrid of the sit in and their prom. No dream had quite the clarity as the loft dream, but they were all still incredibly unhelpful.

"Where's Trixie?" Dan asked as he collapsed on the armchair and tossed his files onto the table beside her book and a cup of water.

"In her room, finishing homework," Chloe stated. She'd actually just checked on her fifteen or so minutes ago, getting a frustrated response as her daughter's concentration was broken. "What's the new case?"

Thankfully not fighting her inquiries, Dan nudged his head to the paperwork for her to browse. She started work again in a week if her checkup went well, and everyone had finally stopped coddling her for the most part. Her ex-husband had even relented to letting her take the couch instead of his bed, since she was the one invading his home until she could afford to move out.

Flipping through the papers, Chloe furrowed her brow in confusion. "No friends to speak of, but she has a recent picture of some kind of gathering?"

"They're running facial recognition on the photo; we'll know more tomorrow."

"Unemployed, but she managed to afford a house like _this_? In the heart of Los Angeles, within a mile from a high school?" Chloe turned pages over, seeing websites and transactions on a few pages, largely tiny ones followed by much bigger ones. One particular deposit stood out, marked for half a million dollars.

"'Unemployed' is a very loose term for what she does. She's an auctioneer of sorts, using eBay and other websites to buy goods cheap and sell them for much more. Seems to be very good at it, too." Dan leaned forward, tapping the page she was looking at for emphasis.

Chloe nodded in understanding, brushing back a loose blond hair over her ear and then pointing to the deposit. "What did she sell for this?"

"You think it's relevant?"

"Half a million dollars for a single item? It could be she sold something fake and the buyer became upset. That kind of money isn't tossed around so easily and nearly every other transaction is less than a thousand dollars." It was less than a month ago that it'd been sold too, recent enough to still enrage the buyer but late enough to have gotten information on her.

"We'll look into it," Dan agreed. "But I don't think this was a crime of passion like that. No signs of forced entry, for example. No signs of a struggle."

Chloe turned to the pages indicating this and frowned. "The place was thoroughly cleaned, too. But for a recluse like this, pretty much anyone showing up would be a stranger. And it says she died slowly?" She swallowed around a lump in her throat. No drugs either, which made the whole story almost unbelievable. "I may be jumping to conclusions, but it almost sounds like assisted suicide. A painful one."

"Yeah. We're looking for someone she knows, while having no friends, who would help kill her, but do so painfully without drawing attention of her neighbors. It's got Ella and Trent confused too. Which is why we'll be interrogating the people in the photo, but the purchase isn't a bad lead either." Dan stood up, waving a hand to the papers. "Feel free to look more, just don't leave it out for Trixie." When Chloe glared at him for stating the obvious, he grinned sheepishly. "I'm going to sleep. See you in the morning?"

"I'll make coffee and breakfast if you wake me up," Chloe replied, turning back to the picture of Sally Monroe. 

What happened to her? A recluse who used to do drugs, but had been clean for a few months. A woman who made money by selling items online. Her house was a recent purchase too, apparently, but it had been bought before the five hundred thousand deposit. Did she anticipate the purchase?

An hour later, Chloe tossed the file on the table with a groan. A part of her itched to return to her book, just a few pages from the series' own prom. The sound of breaking glass startled her, however, and she jumped up to see her forgotten glass of water shattered on the hardwood floor. 

"Mom?" Trixie called, sticking her head out of her door.

"I'm fine, just dropped something. Go to sleep, Monkey," Chloe replied, turning to the clock on the wall. "It's after ten and you have school tomorrow." She noticed the phone in her daughter's hand with a frown and the teenager grinned weakly and quickly shut herself back in the room.

Shaking her head, Chloe began to pick up the larger pieces of glass and collect them in the remains of the original dish's bottom. When a chunk slipped from her fingers and sliced her hand, she yelped, quickly dropping the glass entirely and pushing her palm to her mouth. The taste of blood was fast to fill her mouth and her eyes watered from the stinging feeling. Glass wounds always sucked, but it wasn't anything she couldn't handle. 

The blonde moved to the kitchen, tugging several paper towels off and pressing it into her hand before going to the bathroom beyond for a proper first aid kit. She struggled with one free hand to grab the kit from the wall and sat on the toilet seat to inspect the wound. However, pulling the towels away exposed a bit of liquid but no source.

She inspected the papers, seeing a bit of red but not enough for what she'd seen in the initial wound. The taste of iron still lingered on her tongue, too. Chloe washed her hand in the sink, watching with fascination as the blood disappeared to expose a regular palm.

"What the hell?" she questioned, pulling her palm up close to her face. There was a faint white trace on her hand that seemed to glow ever so slightly and was quickly dimming. It was right where she'd been cut.  
The pain was gone too, and only the crimson on the paper towels provided evidence of her wound. Chloe picked up the towels and hurried back to the living room, staring at the glass on the floor. For a few moments, she just studied the shards, then she broke into laughter. What was she going to do, slice open her hand again to see if it'd just heal up once more? Shaking slightly with the insanity of her contemplation, Chloe sat down and resumed picking up the glass. She was tired. There had to be an explanation for this, but she would rest before fully considering it. Right now, she just felt exhausted.

Which, was also strange, wasn't it? She'd been wide awake until just a few moments ago. But the moment she safely cleaned up the glass and sat back on her makeshift couch-bed, she felt sleep calling to her strongly. Unable to fight it, she shifted to a comfortable position and promised herself she'd figure out what happened to her hand in the morning.

*

Whether or not his nightmares had returned or if he just slept in a void, Lucifer could feel the moment his unconscious self drifted from that darkness to a dream. For one, his body warmed with the once-again familiar weather of Los Angeles at night. Another was the lights, though dim, that glowed in the ceiling of his penthouse. He was laying on his bed, dressed in a silk robe and his boxers. The wall in his room still had a chip from Chloe's escapades on her birthday and the sight brought a brief smile, reminding him of better times. Did she still have his necklace, he wondered. Likely not. Even if she'd forgiven him as his text indicated, there was a period of time where he scared her to her core. And she'd already proved her willingness to part with it when she was involved with Pierce.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a piano. A moment of dread passed quickly when the playing, though clumsy, was familiar. A tune he hadn't heard since the night Charlotte died sung through the penthouse and a small smile grew on Lucifer's lips. He stepped out of the room, tying his robe closed around his waist.

It was a dream, he knew, and even if it could twist itself into a nightmare once more, Lucifer couldn't resist the pull that was his Detective. He leaned on the doorway to watch her, her blue eyes focused on the keys and concentrating on what to play next. A few repetitions of the short but cheery tune and Lucifer pushed off the frame to approach the grand piano.

"Mind if I join?" he asked when she stopped playing, having finally noticed the handsome Devil beside her. Without waiting for a response, he dragged a hand over the ivory bars and started up the accompaniment. Idly, he considered getting a piano for the cafe. An upright would fit in a corner if he took out a couple of tables, and he yearned for music like an addict craved their next fix.

The song they made together was far from perfect, but it was still the best he'd ever heard. He kept his attention deliberately on the piano, letting himself forget the pains that followed this moment, and even the ones that came before. Soon, he closed his eyes, trusting his fingers to play consistently with the woman next to him. "Their greatest hits" he'd called it once, when he was desperately trying to run from himself and still win her over, when he was still trying to preserve what they had despite all the problems they'd faced over the past two years. And they did preserve it, moved beyond it even once he'd stopped acting like a man frozen in time. She chose him.

And then she didn't.

His notes faltered and he stopped, pulling his hands back at the sting of the memory. Only a hand pressing gently against his arm reminded him he was still in his dream, but he was afraid to open his eyes, to see the dark landscape and the one glimmering light that condemned him.

"Lucifer," whispered the detective. "Are you okay?"

Slowly, he turned to the voice, opening dark eyes to see blue ones gazing up at him. Worry shined behind her irises, an emotion he seemed to be causing everyone to feel these days. But even that bit of self-resentment didn't stop him from drinking in just how beautiful she was. He'd been focused on her playing and hadn't noticed what she looked like, not really.

A touch older, with the tiniest hint of crow's feet growing at the corner of her eyes. Her hair was down and she'd abandoned her jacket in favor of a spaghetti strap dress, black with red flowers stitched in. It wasn't a dress he'd ever seen her in, but Dream Chloe seemed to want to do him in with the outfit alone.

"Lucifer?" Her lips moved and drew his attention to them. He was starved for her touch, for anyone's touch really as even his occasional fling had been sparse and brief. Nothing had fully chased away the cold emptiness he felt, but he was sure, if anyone, Chloe could.

"I'm fine," he replied easily. "Just thinking about other times, better times." He stepped away from her and moved to his bar, pleased to see even in a dream it was fully stocked.

Chloe watched him, sitting on the piano bench and shaking her head when he offered her a drink. "Me too, I guess." She closed her eyes and tilted her head back. "I've been thinking a lot about what to do to go forward, but I guess a part of me just wants to cling to the past. But that's just going backwards."

Lucifer set his drink down, feeling his stomach drop with realization. "And that's no good for anyone?" he asked, seeing the woman before him nod. He wasn't quite sure what tipped him off--maybe the realization he hadn't seen her since his return, except in the hospital, or maybe it was that she seemed to be thinking of something beyond him and this location. "This is your dream." Not his. He'd somehow invaded her unconsciousness, connected to her while she slept. A side effect of healing her or an interference of his Father?

Though, the fact she didn't question his presence was a bit startling. "How often do you dream of me?" He couldn't help but ask, giving her a sly, knowing smile. The eyeroll he was rewarded with just made the smile grow. There was also the fact he was in nothing but underwear, too.

"Too often," Chloe groaned, huffing out a sigh as she stood up from the bench and moved to his balcony. "I'm not sure what started it. I thought I'd already moved on. Even if they failed, I had seriously started dating, so that has to mean something, right? Except it didn't with Pierce, so why would it with them?"

 _That_ statement needed unraveling, but he didn't ask about it quite yet. The detective was clearly being more candid than normal, likely a side effect for thinking she wasn't talking to the real Lucifer but instead trapped in a waking dream. He walked up beside her, leaning against the railing and staring out of a view he hadn't seen in... Well six years, but in Hell that'd felt like eons.

"I think I need to get out of here," Chloe confessed after several silent moments beside him. "Get out of the city."

"That could be nice. I assume Vegas wouldn't be on your list, but London is a great city to visit at least once. You could travel the country side as well. The simple lifestyle would suit you." 

A brief laugh was his response and Chloe smiled gently at him. "Not a vacation, Lucifer. Dan's transferring and I've been on the crossroad of joining him. I think... I'm going to follow."

Wait, transfer? "But what about the Spawn?" The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them.

"Trixie? She'd go with us, of course. I mean, she's leaving with Dan anyway. I can't afford to take care of us both, even with medical leave."

"You can't!" Lucifer protested, pushing off of the railing as panic started to set in again. He couldn't lose the child, not after giving up all the others.

"Why not?" Chloe challenged. Because she always had to challenge, push at everything, figure out the hows and the whys even when she should just leave well enough alone.

Scrambling for reasons outside of himself, Lucifer gestured to the penthouse. "Maze. They're still friends."

"Maze travels half the time, still, and it's not like they can't visit each other on breaks, or call. We'll still be in the same timezone."

"What about her schooling? It's a terrible year to pluck the child out of her place."

"Yeah, I would've preferred to have done this between middle and high school, if we were going to, but it's not that bad. People do it all the time." Chloe folded her arms in front of her with a 'got anything else?' look.

"What if Beatrice doesn't want to?" It was the last thing he could come up with, outside of giving away how much of a lifeline she'd become for him.

"While I don't want to upset her, Lucifer, she's still a kid. It isn't up to her in the end and she can't very well stay here if Dan and I leave." The detective stepped away,strolling back to the elevator. At the door, she faced Lucifer again with a tight frown. "This conversation is over. And if nothing else, it's helped me come to a decision. Good-bye, Lucifer."

The dream began to fade around him as she departed. The Devil watched the wall, wondering what he was going to do and hoping Chloe didn't follow through on her dream self's conclusion.

But he knew otherwise. The last time they stood here, he'd realized she'd chosen him, even after he deliberately forced her choice back on her. Now, it was clear that she'd chosen to leave him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (In my defense, the Ella and Lucifer talking scene was planned for this chapter, but it made the whole chapter too long so it got moved to the next one, but I promise we will in the chapter 9! See you on Wednesday)


	9. Miss Lopez Managed to Find Me in Two Months

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cats make terrible writing companions, especially two month old tabbies. (We named him Dorian Gray, for those who are curious. He's terrified of our big friendly giant, Minion, but they're working through it)
> 
> Also, I need to remember what I've released before I accidentally spoil my own story in the comments. But oh dear, you guys make me so happy with your comments and kudos (reached over 250 last chapter!) Thank you again. So, so much.

**If she was forced to describe herself in a single word, Sally Monroe would have chosen the word "afraid" a few months ago, but "blessed" now. It was odd how much her life had changed when she had encountered that man. Carmen, he introduced himself as, and he was friendly and pushy in the way that made you unable to say no, but not quite able to blame him in the end. A villain in appearance and attitude, though she didn't think of him as such now. Instead, he was a God. No, not God, but a prophet for the man above.**

**To think, she'd spent most of her life afraid of people, taking whatever escape she could from them and living her life in a fixed solitude. Sure, she'd encountered the worst of people, suffered abuse at the hands of her late parents and wandered the streets at an early age, but why did she ever think there was only bad? How foolish she'd been.**

**For now, she saw the light. A literal and figurative light. Carmen's group was small when she joined, just a scattering of similarly afraid folks. There seemed to be a cop there, as well. Most were hesitantly there because Carmen was very persuasive, and they were considering leaving after obliging the invitation and then never returning.**

**None left. Not after Carmen revealed the truth to them. White, down feathers were collected in a carefully carved chest, cradled silk. Blood splattered all of them, but it did nothing to dim the glow they gave off. Proof of Heaven on Earth.**

**The group--Sally refused to call it a cult--grew quickly after that. Initiates all were shown the box and devotion was sworn. Sally rose in ranks and found herself becoming social, at least with fellow members. Except that had been her downfall, in the end. As the years went on, she noticed the light was fading in the feathers. Divinity was vanishing. And with it brought clarity, like a fog being lifted.**

**Slowly, she began to drift away again, realizing just how deep they'd gotten. The goals they sought to achieve terrified her once more. She made as smooth of a cut from the group as possible and fled. But she should have known better. No one ever left. Not after they'd seen the Light.**

**Sally had returned to drugs for a short while, but it wasn't the same. Getting caught by the police made it not worth the effort, too. So instead, she felt empty, desperately wanting that light she remembered from her early days with Carmen and the rest.**

**When she saw the halo being sold online, she bought it without a second thought. A thousand dollars was nothing if it was the truth, and what could some idiot auctioneer know about truth? But it was, unfortunately, fake. She knew divinity, and this bit of gold was not it. However, it was easy to turn a profit around and sell it to the others who would also be looking for what she wanted.**

**The fact it sold for half a million dollars _should_ have warned Sally, but the bid war had been so exciting to watch, she hadn't considered the implications of someone taking her so seriously. Selling it to the group she left must have been how they found her.**

**"Ms. Monroe," Carmen greeted, a few unfamiliar faces behind him. "I wanted to make a deal with you. An experiment of sorts. If it works, you'll no longer have to look for the divinity you want to badly because you will _be_ the divinity you want so badly."**

**A feather, stained red with dried blood, was pulled out from a small box in one of the other's hands. When it glowed, far brighter than ever before and Sally's mind began to mist over, the woman knew she was doomed. But it was impossible to make herself care.**

*One day later*

When Lucifer opened his eyes, he was surprised to find a young face leaning over him, with a pillow in hand. His head, he realized, was being held up by her other hand. Trixie grinned at him, sliding the pillow under his head anyway, and sat back. "Morning sleepyhead," the girl said cheerfully.

"Spawn," Lucifer groaned, a gentle smile coming to his face. As much as the knowledge that she may be taken from him hurt, he was happy to see her. Rubbing his eyes to chase the last of his dream away--and the last of a headache, apparently--he looked around the room his was in. Brightly lit and stuffed to the brim with boxes, the Devil was a bit unsure how he ended up in his back room. On the couch, no less.

As if reading his mind, Trixie shrugged. "You were too heavy to carry up to your room, even with three of us, and I didn't know how to contact Amenadiel." Standing up and stretching she offered a hand to help him up. "Think you could get his phone number for me next time you see him?"

Lucifer nodded, taking her hand though it was unnecessary. "I can just give it to you. I'm pretty sure I have it on my cell." He wasn't _exactly_ sure as he saw no need to contact his nosy brother when the angel so often just showed up before he could be missed.

"In hindsight, I guess I could've checked. Knowing you, you don't lock it."

"What reason would I have to do such a thing? Who would dare steal from the Devil?" Lucifer noted, pulling his phone out as they talked. The eyeroll he received brought a wide smile that almost hurt from the mixture of joy and pain it cause. "You look so much like your mother, Beatrice. Did you know that?"

"I've been told," Trixie replied, patting his elbow. "But hearing it from you means a lot." She hugged his arm briefly and beamed up at the tall man. "You're family, after all."

His body warmed, starting from where she hugged him, but he just gave her a stern frown. "Inviting the Devil as family is a dangerous thing to do, young lady," he said in a false tone of authority.

"Well, my best friend is a demon, so I was already doomed. Maybe bringing two angels would balance things out." The teen nudged him playfully. She placed a hand on the door and frowned back at Lucifer. "Are you ready for this?"

"Ready for what?" he questioned, baffled at the suddenly serious note in her voice.

The faint sound of two people talking finally reached his ears, both familiar, but one in a way that brought back a surge of recently forgotten events. Ah, right, Ella Lopez had shown up in his store. It was inevitable, but he hadn't been prepared. Still wasn't, but the Devil wasn't a coward. He was not going to hide in a break room. Flashing a sly smile and placing on his best Devil-may-care mask, he nodded. "I mean, our audience awaits." And he strolled through the door.

*

Ella sipped on her fourth or fifth cup of coffee--glad that if she was going to pull a mostly all-nighter it was in a cafe. The hour was turning to four in the morning and the brief two-and-a-half hour nap she'd taken in the bed upstairs-- _Lucifer's_ bed--hadn't been quite enough. The boy in the room with her looked just as exhausted, having slept downstairs on a pile of pillows and blankets while his boss's collapsed form claimed the couch.

Whatever Ella imagined her reunion with her missing friend had been, this was not it. She'd started immediately in a tirade of questions when she first spotted him, but not only did Lucifer not respond, he had looked _terrified_. His help had jumped into action, as if this was a regular occurrence, speaking out his actions as he reached for Lucifer's arm. The bruise on the teenager's face now indicated that that had not been a smart move.

It didn't stop Christian from continuing through a list of instructions and explanations for Lucifer and his own actions. The setup seemed routine that Ella had asked about it later. "Panic attacks," Christian explained. "I know the basics of helping people with PTSD due to personal experience. Not with my own, I mean, but my father's."

He'd actually been tight lipped with the information at first, but opened up once Trixie showed her face. Introducing Ella as an old friend of "Lu's" made him relax significantly. Apparently, he hadn't remembered her from the party, but Ella didn't blame him. With effort, the three of them moved Lucifer to the couch.

"So does your mom know he's here?" Ella inquired when they had the tall man situated, feet dangling over the furniture.

Trixie shook her head, flushing slightly. "It's a secret. I actually had to sneak out to get here, which is why I was so late."

That was at eleven, nearly four whole hours after Lucifer had blacked out.. Afterwards, the girl took charge and began to give instructions. She had Ella and herself go take a nap upstairs, with Christian sleeping in the employee's room to keep half an eye on Lucifer. Then, when situated in the cluttered room--which unnerved Ella in another way--Trixie made Ella promise to not tell anyone. Not until Lucifer had a chance to explain himself. Her plea was so sincere, the scientist couldn't help but agree, the image of Lucifer falling playing on repeat in the back of her mind and adding the question of "what happened?"

When they'd all woken up from the fitful sleep, Ella got a few basic questions out of the way. Lucifer had been in LA for the past two months. As far as Trixie was aware, only she knew, though Christian had let it drop that Amenadiel had also returned and also knew. The scientist wasn't terribly close to Lucifer's brother, but she was glad to hear he was safe as well.

Where he had been was vague, Trixie simply saying "home" in that same tone that said she knew where "home" was but was unwilling to divulge that information. Neither were sure what happened in his absence, but they were both positive it was traumatic. Neither were sure why he left, either.

So there was a lot of blanks filled in, but so many questions left unanswered. Ella sorted through them in her head, wondering just how to approach solving the mysteries without hurting her friend. Sipping her coffee, she settled on the very first, and most important, question.

Just in time, too, as the door opened with a Trixie guiding Lucifer by the arm. Another disconcerting part of his image presented itself. His hair was still well kept, though a bit mussed by the fall and hours in between, but his clothes were significantly more dressed down. The occasional t-shirt had made an appearance on Lucifer from time to time during his crime solving days, but the business casual was definitely a first.

That smile on his face was not, but it wasn't one Lopez saw directed to her often. Usually just suspects, witnesses, and others he felt he could use. A mixture of predatory and charm, it was a look that fit a man who called himself the Devil.

Instead of addressing her immediately, though, Lucifer glanced around his cafe before settling on a corner and the smile shifted slightly to something more real. "I think a piano would fit perfectly there, actually," he stated out of the blue.

"A piano?" Christian inquired, sitting on the counter. "You play, Lu?" Two months and the teenager didn't know?

"Mm-hm. I prefer grands, but an upright would fit the atmosphere better, I think. You'd have to handle the counters when I do, but I trust you, with that much at least." His gaze flicked over to the clock at the back and he frowned. "Though I do wonder what you all are doing here at four in the morning."

"Waiting for you, obviously," Ella responded. Lucifer turned to her, though he never met her eyes.

"I'm aware that's why _you're_ here, but Christian and the Spawn have school today. I can't imagine they're parents are okay with them being out at this hour."

"I had Jesus cover for me." Christian shrugged. "It was an emergency, Lu, so we're okay. If I have to, I'll just take a nap again and go to school late."

"We'll be fine," Trixie agreed. 

Lucifer hummed in response then moved behind the counter, pulling out a plastic cup and then a bottle of whiskey. Filling the cup and ignoring Christian's disapproving scowl, the ex-consultant moved to a table. He pulled out a chair, set the drink down, and tugged on his sleeves before holding his arms out in surrender. Gaze still not quite connecting, the man smiled broadly again. "So, I guess we should cut to the chase. I'm all yours, Miss Lopez. What do you wish to know?"

Ella set her coffee down and stared at her friend quietly for several moments before asking the most pressing question. "Are you okay, Lucifer?"

The smile faltered and the hands fell to his lap, but Lucifer met her eyes briefly before looking away. "Of course, I am. As you can clearly tell, I'm still the perfect embodiment of what a man should be."

Trixie and Christian briefly laughed, but Ella rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I know, you're amazing--"

"Thank you!"

"But you know that's not what I mean, Lucifer. I'm worried. You left, and everyone seemed to either understand why or..." Ella trailed off, not wanting to express Dan's indifference and have it be misunderstood. "But I couldn't. I kept thinking what if you showed up again in the worst possible way." She stood up and approached her friend, watching him pull back slightly in his seat.

She placed her hands on the arms of the chair, effectively imprisoning him. "We're friends, and when you went missing I felt a little lost. But you didn't tell anyone, not when you left and not when you returned. How could you?" The accusation in her voice wasn't as harsh as she originally intended, a part of her remembering the fear he showed upon seeing her So instead of punching him in the arm for scaring _her_ , she wrapped her arms around him in a tight embrace. The stiff posture he had was familiar, even the slowly relaxing movement before he returned it. The slight shaking was new, but she didn't pull back and somehow this seemed to help both of them.

"I didn't want to leave," Lucifer whispered. "Well, I did, but I hadn't intended to be gone so long. I am sorry for that, Miss Lopez. It was never my intention to hurt or scare anyone. At least, not on Earth."

"Where'd you go?" She couldn't help but ask, so annoyed that it seemed to be an answer everyone else had but her.

Lucifer huffed a laugh, his hands briefly tightening around her before falling to his side. Taking the hint, Ella pulled back. He still wouldn't meet her eyes, but the fake posture and expression had been completely dropped. "You know the answer I'll give, Miss Lopez. You won't believe, but you know."

"Hell." A part of her wanted to say "man you're committed" but there was too much involved to make her believe this was any part of an act. Metaphor it was, then?

"Indeed. I'd... I'd gone for another purpose, but gotten myself trapped." He glanced upwards as if asking for help from God, but Ella knew that wasn't the actual case. Lucifer would never ask the Big Guy for anything. Perhaps he just wanted answers. "I only just got out." His eyes moved down slowly and finally his dark eyes found hers, holding power behind them. "For what it's worth, I missed you, Miss Lopez. You, the Spawn, and everyone."

Ella sat back, smiling softly. If there were tears in her eyes, she couldn't tell you what emotion caused them. "I missed you too, you big goof."

"It also pains me to ask you this, but could you keep my arrival here a secret? At least for now."

She knew that request was coming, but found it hard to say no when he looked at her with broken brown eyes. "No. No, no, no, you can't ask me that Lucifer!" His expression turned to a 'why not?' and the power that buzzed around them seemed to grow, making her want to cave even more, in particular to her natural desire to protect her friends. How could someone look so vulnerable and yet demand so much obedience? "For one, I'm the worst at keeping secrets. The worst. They'd figure me out in an instant. Two, I think keeping this a secret is a bad idea! Everyone misses you and, dude, you look like you could use a friend. Besides, they'll find out eventually. You're not exactly someone who is easily ignored." No, he always drew attention like a light in the darkness. Being captivated by his charm was almost second nature.

"I'm aware." Lucifer sounded pained. "You, for example, Miss Lopez managed to find me in two months and I'm bound here for ten more. It's inevitable, but..." He glanced to the side where Trixie and Christian had been, though they'd slipped out of the room at some point to give the two privacy. "I'm not ready yet. Please. Just for a little longer." He was back to not meeting her eyes.

It was the sincerity in his voice, the "please" that did her in. She sighed and collapsed in her chair, picking up her drink like a lifeline. Lucifer hadn't touched his, she noticed, not since he sat down. "Fine." She huffed out a breath. "Fine, but if I'm caught I'll be honest with them, okay? I'll do my best to keep it a secret for as long as possible, though."

She was graced with a broken smile for her concession. Then a quick nod and the mask was back. "Any other questions? Or should I get you another coffee? I imagine the three of you are going to need it, badly."

"One last cup, but then no more. Caffeine poisoning is not how I want my tombstone to read."

Another quirk of his lips into a brief smile, Lucifer stood up and brought his drink to the counter, knocking twice on the door to tell the teenagers it was safe to come out. "Considering you are the physical embodiment of caffeine, I doubt you could die from it, but I'll acquiesce. One last cup." As the door opened, he effortlessly pulled out two more cups and called back to the two. "An americano for Christian and another latte for Beatrice?"

"Ugh, no make me an americano too, something with more caffeine," Trixie mumbled, rubbing sleep from her eyes as well. She was texting on her phone. "But add a shot of something delicious." She flashed a grin at the man who nodded.

"Three americanos with almond and cinnamon. Keeps my job simple."

Trixie and Christian pulled out chairs near Ella, sitting down as Lucifer worked. Nudging the older woman slightly, Trixie leaned in and whispered "you two okay, then?"

"Yeah? We were always okay. I was never not okay; I was just angry he was gone." Ella sighed, wondering how and why she was doing this. Why her? Maze understood Lucifer better; Linda was his therapist so that went without saying; Dan could be brutally upfront with the man; and Chloe... Well there was too much to be said about those two to really fit in her brain at the moment, not with only a couple hours of sleep and a long work day ahead of her.

But Lucifer and Ella weren't nothing, she figured. They were different from the rest. Nothing sexual, and while professional they were more friends than coworkers. More... Well Lucifer was like her brothers. No, not like her brothers; they were a different bunch altogether, but like a brother nevertheless. Family. Maybe that would be what he needed. Hopefully that'd be enough to help.

As Lucifer set their drinks down and reclaimed his seat, Ella sipped at the concoction Lucifer made for her. It was amazing, even five drinks in with the bitter taste of coffee already imbued with her taste buds. Trixie and Christian had started talking idly with Lucifer about the school day and the scientist watched, absorbed in her thoughts.

She still had so many questions, but some she knew she couldn't breach yet and others could wait. One, however, could not. "You never actually said why you left," she blurted out, interrupting Christian.

Lucifer froze again before picking up his drink. The shaking of his hands was evident through the held cup's sloshing liquid. Locking eyes with her chin, he took a slow drink before setting it down. "I did not. You're right."

"Why did you leave?" Ella pushed.

She expected Lucifer to evade answering again, but instead he took a deep breath, eyes never moving off of just below her own. "I scared the detective," he said simply. "It felt prudent to leave, give her space as they say."

Scared... Chloe? "And that's it? Scared her? How? Why would that... That makes no sense, Lucifer. You don't just leave because you scare someone."

"I assure it was the right course of action," Lucifer growled. "What the detective saw was quite... Horrifying and my continued presence was only making things worse." More quietly he added "more than I realized."

"Nothing could be that bad!" Ella countered and then realized her mistake when Lucifer slammed a fist on the table, cracking it. He stood up abruptly, turning around and the tension in his body could be felt in the entire room.

"Lucifer?" Trixie called, reaching a hand out despite the fact that Ella couldn't help but feel that was the worst idea. She'd never been afraid of Lucifer, but she was now.

When the spawn's hand touched his elbow, though, Lucifer deflated. Still not turning around, Lucifer placed his own hand on the teen's and sighed. "You three should leave. You have responsibilities out there."

"Right. Right," Christian said. "You going to be okay, Lu?"

"Eventually. I'll close the shop for the day. Take some time for myself." Finally, he faced the group again, though his eyes were on the ground. "Do not worry about me."

"Oh, we'll worry, but that's our job, Lu," Trixie noted, smiling at him. "We're friends."

A weak smile was her reward and Ella added, "Yeah! Family, even!"

They left shortly after that, and Trixie gave Ella Lucifer's phone number outside the cafe. She stared at it, but her mind was elsewhere, wondering just what could scare Chloe so much that he felt the need to go somewhere that hurt him so badly. There was someone who had an answer, but she couldn't really ask without raising some flags.

"Well, it's a start."

*

The experiment was a failure, and a terrible setback considering how many feathers had lost their luster for the attempt. Carmen groaned, holding his long standing headache. They'd also wasted a perfectly useful pawn and likely had the police on their heels. No, not likely, they did even if there was no real evidence linking them to the crime.

"I was so sure the feathers would work," one of his subordinates said. "Angels are said to heal with light or something and the feathers glow!"

"Well, they're the Lightbringer's feathers," another retorted. "Perhaps they just glow on principle. Maybe he lost the ability to heal when he Fell, but his light remained?"

"I don't think that's it," his second in command stated, walking into the room with a stack of papers. When the group in the room turned to him, he set the files down and shrugged. "You guys hear about Detective Decker?"

"Chloe Decker?" one member asked. "Lucifer's old partner?"

The woman was a conundrum. They couldn't tell if the Devil actually cared for her, which went against the scriptures, or if he had a purpose for her. If either was the case, that was likely to have ended when he vanished off the face of the Earth--literally most presumed--six years ago.

"What about her?" Carmen questioned. Last he recalled, she was dying of cancer, though he heard a rumor it'd gone into remission.

His second-in-command pulled out one manilla folder from the pile and set it down, flipping it open. "Her cancer is gone. Completely. She was on end of life care, but instead her illness just reversed." A sly grin formed on the man's face. "They're calling it a miracle."

Everyone tried to look at the folder at once, but Carmen's authority allowed him to snatch up the file first and respect for him kept the rest at bay. He studied the file carefully before putting it aside. "So do you think it was her or some interference from the Lightbringer?"

"Definitely the latter. Or have you not heard of the Redeye Roast?"


	10. Like Some Damn Puppy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry this is one day late! I had next to not time to write since the last chapter (OT, and parties). I promise we will be on schedule Wednesday.
> 
> Also, this chapter was ridiculously fun to write. Two characters that have never interacted feature here, so I got to make up how they'd get along! Hope you guys enjoy the situation as much as I did.
> 
> Once again, sorry for being a day late.

**If anyone asked Azrael, she would have said life was going fantastically on track. She'd finally reunited with her brother with minimal awkwardness, kept her best friend from going home to family that used her, and managed to get her two favorite people closer. To top it all off, there was something softer about her brother. Nicer, gentler. His time on Earth had changed him. It wasn't like he'd gone back to Samael, the angel he used to be. No, it was more like he finally got that freedom, the free will, he'd always wanted. As if all the pieces fell into place. Except one, but Azrael was sure that piece would come around--Chloe had accepted Ella's sixth sense after all.**

**But perhaps Azrael had been to optimistic, that the good things happening blinded her to just how bad she'd gotten. For one day, when visiting Ella during a short lull in people dying--there were still dead souls, but she only really needed to interfere with the lost ones--she'd found that all of the events that she felt were _right_ collapsed when her brother vanished off the face of the Earth. Literally. Not that Ella knew that last bit, just that he was gone.**

**The Angel of Death did her best to calm her friend, and made a promise to bring news of Lu, which she'd regret later as her appearance became connected with his absence. Then, she flew off towards the one person who might know what happened to her brother. Maze was, unsurprisingly, unwelcoming when the angel landed on the penthouse balcony.**

**"Woah, woah! Peace, Maze, I'm not here to fight!" Rae cried when the demon launched into a series of strikes that Azrael easily dodged. She wasn't the Angel of Death for nothing, but in a fair fight she wasn't entirely sure who would win. Mazikeen was, after all, Hell's Number One Torturer. And Rae didn't have her sword anymore--thanks Mum.**

**Mazikeen didn't relent immediately, following the shorter woman until Azrael jumped off the balcony again and took flight, hovering five feet away from the edge and hopefully out of reach of the violence. The demon stood next to the railing, tensed as if she might leap after Azrael despite her lack of wings. Then, she shifted her stance, spinning her daggers before sheathing them and nodding her head at the angel in a mixture of begrudging approval and invitation.Rae still waited until Maze was back at the bar before landing again.**

**"I'm here for Lu," the celestial explained, getting a huff of exasperation from the demon.**

**"As you can tell, he's not here."**

**"No, I mean... Shit, I didn't mean I was looking for him, but I am kinda? More, like, wondering what he's thinking, when he'll get back, or what I can do to help?" She kept her distance, still, from the demon and opted to sit in a chair while Mazikeen glowered from the other side of the bar.**

**"He's _thinking_ of himself, like usual. He'll be back eventually; he's just moping, like usual. And you can help by leaving. Lucifer and I? Not so buddy-buddy with you folk."**

**"I'm--I'm aware. I mean, we just made up. A little. So, him leaving worries me, you know?"**

**"Made up? Who the hell are you, anyway?" Maze raised her eyebrow, curiosity getting the better of her. "None of Lucifer's family gives a damn about him; why the hell would you try to make up? And what does that even entail? What, you think he'll go back to Heaven if you ask nicely? Or Hell?"**

**"No, no, I don't even go Home all that often myself, way too busy for that. Besides, the last time I did, one of my brothers stole something important from me." And then died for it. All in all, not a good time. "I'm Azrael, though. Lu and I? We used to be close. You know, before the Fall, and I was just hoping to reconnect."**

**"He's not going to go back to being the same brother," Maze snorted, rolling her eyes.**

**"I'm aware." Kind of, Lucifer had warmed up a fair bit over the past few years, but she had no illusions that he would become just like the angel he was. In many ways, Azrael was thankful. "I just want to be there for him."**

**"Well, unfortunately, he ran off, like I said earlier, he left. Being a drama queen about Decker rejecting him."**

**"Again." Azrael sighed. She figured that was the case. "Well, I can at least go down check on him. Want to come with?"**

**Mazikeen smirked, the first real hint of a smile since her arrival. "Nah, I'm good. But thanks for the offer." She flipped out a dagger and the smirk turned dangerous, but still somehow jovial. "We should do a rematch some time. I want to see what you've got. Azrael was it?"**

**"Yeah, but call me Rae."**

**She left with an odd feeling that somehow she'd just made a new friend. When she returned to visit later, that had proven to be true and the two spent hours talking at length about the ridiculous humans--especially the dead ones--and their mutual friends. It made the years go by much more quickly.**

*Six Years Later*

Ella was clinging to her coffee like a lifeline, stuck in that state where she was too tired to be functional but too wired to sleep properly. Maybe that last cup of coffee was a bad idea, but then she probably wouldn't be awake right now if she didn't have it.

When she entered the precinct, she'd gotten a groan from Daniel when he spotted her cup and the two red R's. "Not you too," he griped, complaining that this coffee stand was corrupting Trixie by sheer amount of caffeine. Absently, he wondered how she could afford the drinks so often. Ella merely sipped her drink to prevent herself from blurting out the answer. If Lucifer gave out free alcoholic drinks back at Lux, he wouldn't think twice about it with coffee. Sometimes it was a wonder he stayed in business.

Halfway through the conversation, Daniel snapped his fingers in front of her face to get her attention again. Stammering an undignified "Hu-wuh?" Ella refocused on the detective, blinking to chase away her half-doze.

"You okay, Ella? I thought we departed early so we could all get some sleep, not end up looking worse than before."

"Some things came up. Important things. Didn't really get to nap. What were you saying?" Ella rambled off, shifting uneasily.

"We were thinking assisted suicide might be a possibility? And that we should look into the receivers of the victim's higher sold items, see if they have any grudge against her. I mean, I'm looking into the latter, but I wanted to know what you came up with or if you could look into the suicide idea."

"Uh, yeah, yeah I can do that. Definitely. I'll get right to it." Ella spun on one foot and hurried back to her lab before Dan could ask anymore questions.

Unfortunately, the lab was not the reprieve she had hoped it was. The moment the doors shut behind her and she pulled the blinds down, a scolding voice called over her shoulder. Ella sighed as she turned to face her ghost friend.

"I thought we agreed that you were going to go to sleep and I would give you more information." Rae-Rae folded her arms in front of her as Ella set the coffee cup to the side.

"Something important came up," Ella repeated, rubbing tiredly at her face. "I promise that the moment I get a chance, I'll catch a nap here."

"What was so important that kept you up?"

Ella hesitated. She promised Lucifer she wouldn't tell anybody. But, arguably, Rae-Rae wasn't any _body_. She was a ghost and no one could interact with her, that she knew at least. And venting slightly would help prevent her from exploding later. She took a deep breath and leveled a stare at the other girl. "Lucifer's back."

"What? Where? When?" Rae jumped forward, surprised and clearly enthusiastic. Moreso than Ella would have thought.

"Uh, okay, hold on. Um, let me think." The scientist squeezed her eyes shut, collecting her thoughts. "There's this new cafe by the victim's place, like half a mile away? I was walking and found it and remembered Trixie had coffee from it so figured I'd grab a cup and see what all the fuss was about. Except, when I went in, Lucifer was there. Behind the counter."

"Lucifer is working at a cafe," Rae deadpanned, her expression begging for a punchline.

"More like owns it? And he was messed up, something big happened as he seemed _terrified_ to see me. Told me not to tell anyone." It was hard not to, but something was broken. How did Chloe phrase it? Lucifer used to have this aura of endless glee, a hedonist to the very end and a bit--a fairly large bit--narcissistic. This Lucifer had only a facsimile of all that. Something he wore instead of lived, as if his being in LA was painful somehow. "I think he needs a friend, but doesn't know how to accept one anymore."

Rae-Rae stared for a long moment at Ella and then nodded. "Promise me you'll get some rest as soon as you can?"

"Yeah. Of course. Don't want to miss any details about these crimes! Dan has me looking into assisted suicide and I want to look over a few more things that I thought of earlier. Plus, I have a molding from another case to analyze, but after that I'll find some time."

"Okay. Good. As for the information I promised? Sally mentioned something about Heaven on Earth." Rae shrugged vaguely. "I would've brushed it off normally, but it sounded important to her."

"Heaven on Earth. Got it." Sally hadn't seemed religious.There wasn't any Bibles in her house, though there was a fair bit of angel artwork. Writing this tidbit down, she turned to focus on her day and didn't notice when Rae-Rae left.

*

Even after sleeping on the whole situation, Chloe felt at a loss over her hand-glass-injury incident. She managed to wait until Dan left for work--her daughter had apparently left really early for a club thing, according to the texts she received on her phone--before she experimented. The detective decided to try something small, pricking her finger with a needle and watching with sheer fascination as a white light trickled out shortly after a small drop of blood.

_Something_ supernatural was going on. And there was only one person she could go to for advice in that case. Which worked out, as there was something else she wanted to talk to their resident demon about.

She easily slipped into the elevator of Lux by the time early afternoon rolled around. Anticipation she hadn't felt in years returned, imagery of the dream she had last night echoing in her head. Lucifer hadn't acted quite like the Lucifer of her memories. But it felt so much more real than the other dreams.

What was he up to now? Was he still in Hell, being the King he always hated being? Had he returned and was living in a night club on the other side of the world? Befriending another group of police or working with the more sinister people? Would Mazikeen know?

Her thoughts were interrupted when the door to the elevator opened and she heard voices trailing out of the penthouse bedroom.

"--never bothered to show up here, so why would I care?" Maze snarled at someone. It was a deeper voice that responded, but wasn't yelling so she couldn't make out more than the fact the voice was there.

"As if! Look, I'm not going to go running back with my tail tucked between my legs like some damned puppy! I've done enough, you've done enough. Just let it go!" Mazikeen was clearly pissed, but that was her state half the time so Chloe wasn't terribly concerned. The detective continued her approach casually.

"I'm not going to, Maze," was the response she received. The detective was close enough to be able to make the voice out apparently. Not wanting to eavesdrop, she knocked on the wall, wincing at the surprisingly loud thud her knuckles caused.

"Maze?" Two pairs of eyes turned towards her, one belonging to a man she thought lost to them. The dark skinned man was sitting on the bed, elbows on his knees as he looked up at Chloe and Mazikeen, the latter standing under the old safe, hidden by tasteful art instead of creepy merclowns. 

"Chloe, hey," Amenadiel greeted, a small smile on his features.

"Amenadiel! Oh, uh, hi! I didn't expect to see you... Ever again. Not that I thought you'd died, but went to Heaven, right?" Chloe's hands shot up, confused about whether she should hold a hand out in greeting, wave, or surrender. She didn't miss Amenadiel's slightly widening eyes at her statement. "How have things been? What brings you back here?"

Rather than answering her question, Amenadiel asked one of his own. "You know?" At Chloe's slow nod he added "When?"

"Um, five or six years ago? Shortly after Charlotte and Pierce." Very shortly after Pierce.

"Ah. That explains a lot, actually." Amenadiel stood up and crossed the small gap between them, pulling the detective into a brief hug. "Well, I'm glad to see you. It's been far too long. We should catch up, but for now I should be heading out."

"Wait!" Chloe called out when Amenadiel made his way to the elevator. "If you're back, is Lucifer... Here too?"

Amenadiel stiffened slightly as he thought about his answer for a long time, concerning Decker. Then he slowly shook his head, snuffing a bit of hope she hadn't realized she held. "No. He's not here."

"Is he... Okay?"

"He's... Getting better. Do you want me to tell him you said hello next time I see him?"

"Sure, yes. And, um, let him know I--we miss him?" A pang of guilt scored through her as she realized if she left LA and he returned, he'd be crushed. "I mean, just tell him I said hi." The man--angel, she dimly thought, though it was the first time she really had to be confronted with that--nodded again with a tight smile and left.

A few moments of silence followed before Mazikeen groaned in annoyance. "So what's up, Decker? I have places to go, angels to fight, and all that."

Chloe spun around to Mazikeen and held her hands up again, showing her perfectly uninjured palms. The demon only stared at the blonde as if she'd lost her mind. Considering her most recent near death experiment, not an unreasonable line of logic.

"You didn't relapse, did you Decker?" the bounty hunter asked. "I hear that's a major concern, like getting healed doesn't mean you can't die from it again."

"Oh, no, I'm fine. Better than fine, physically at least. Here, it's easier to show you." Chloe turned to the bar where Maze always discarded her knives and picked one up. The curved, ornate blade screamed danger and cut as easily as she breathed. Carefully, she pulled the blade against her thumb, watching the blood well up as she half presented the thumb to the demon.

Both stared at the hand for a solid minute before Mazikeen arched an eyebrow in confusion. Just as confused, Chloe murmured out a "that's odd" before pulling the blade in a line on her palm, lightly so that the wound wasn't serious but hard enough to draw a decent amount of blood. A similar odd minute past with nothing strange happening.

"Decker, if this is about your recent discovery of masochism, I'm not one to judge but I don't think you need to tell me. I mean, I'm open to hearing, but tell me, don't show me. Else I'll be inclined to give pointers."

"No, no, something weird's been happening. Last night I cut myself on glass, but by the time I made it to the bathroom the wound was gone! And this morning, I used a needle and saw a light before--"

"You healed?" Mazikeen inquired, strolling past Chloe and going to the daggers on display. She plucked another dagger from the collection, a straight edge with a fancy handle that disconcertingly looked like it was made of bone. "With light?"

Decker nodded and the demon beckoned with the dagger towards Chloe's hand. Hesitantly, Chloe held her hand up, the blood from her own cuts still flowing slowly. Maze studied the hand, turning it over and then back in contemplation. Then she stabbed the knife into her hand, straight through. Yelling in pain, Chloe tugged her hand back, the blade sliding out of her and she grasped it with her other palm. "Maze!" she snapped, the pain hot and causing her to hiss out slow breaths.

"What? For best results, we should push it. Besides, it worked," Mazikeen gestured to Chloe's hand by her side and the detective followed her line of sight to see light leaking out between her fingers. She freed the light, pulling back and holding the stabbed palm up. The light shined from the wound, slowly diminishing as it repaired the hole until it vanished entirely. The two earlier wounds remained, but had stopped bleeding.

Mazikeen cursed under her breath. "That bastard. How long has this been going on?"

"Last--since last night. Does this have anything to do with Amenadiel? Or the fact that I'm a um..." 'Miracle' always sounded odd to say but the others hadn't presented her with an alternative term. Maze understood, though, and shook her head dismissively.

"No. Nothing like that. Damn him. Again." Maze stormed towards the elevator, suddenly eager to face something.

"Maze? I need a bit of information here," Decker shouted, pulling out her best 'I'm the authority' voice.

Groaning, Mazikeen turned back around, pointing to her hand. "That's Divinity. Angels can heal other angels, but they don't heal humans. Not usually. Anyway, it's harmless. You just will glow if you get injured. Any other weird side effects?No, then just keep me updated if something else happens. Rest here, though, you look tired. I'll make sure no one bothers you."

That was odd. Chloe had slept plenty, but she _was_ exhausted, like she'd just ran a mile at full sprint. Nodding in response, she walked towards the guest room--there was no way she was sleeping in Maze's bed. The room here hadn't been touched nearly as much, usually just for Trixie when she had a sleepover, so she curled up on the black silk and let sleep carry her.

Surprisingly, she didn't dream of her wayward devil, but instead of a light and flying.

*

All things considered, Lucifer had handled his conversation with Miss Lopez rather well. He hadn't zoned out, hadn't broken down, hadn't had an attack. He held a conversation mostly normally, and only a touch of his fears managed to escape. But Miss Lopez had that effect, didn't she? Her kind spirit was what drew his sister back again and again, after all.

A few hours after her departure, he hadn't even though of the Decker family leaving him. Well, not until now. Damn it.

Leaning against the counter with his back to the street, Lucifer took slow, steady breaths as Christian often instructed him to do. He focused on the here and now, counting things he could see, touch, smell. He wasn't in a landscape of dust and darkness, but instead in a cafe with the bitter smell of coffee and bright colors. There was no distinct sound to the location, usually too full of customers to notice the silence. Music would benefit this place immensely.He'd make a call for that piano as soon as he had full control of his faculties.

The sound of the door opening pulled him the last stretch back to reality and he turned to face the customer as he uttered "Sorry, darling, but we're closed today."

"Oh, I don't care, Lucifer. You have some explaining to do," the 'customer' growled as the Devil laid eyes on his demon for the first time in half a decade.

"Mazikeen." He huffed out a breath, acting on a nonchalance he didn't feel. "I was wondering if you'd ever show up to darken my doorstep."

"Oh, because you couldn't do the same? Had to have your demon come running to you instead of you coming to check in on the place she's watched over for _you_?"

"I didn't ask you to watch over Lux, Mazikeen," Lucifer noted dryly before walking behind the counter. He flipped out a cup and two small shot glasses, filling the shots with espresso.

"There's a lot of things you didn't _ask_ me, like if I wanted to go back to Hell with you for example!"

"We weren't exactly on speaking terms at the time," Lucifer retorted, pouring the shots into the cup and then filling it with whiskey from under the counter. He offered the drink to the demon, who took it with a violent swipe.

"And? You left for years. As if it was permanent. Surely a small argument wasn't worth forcing me to stay here."

Sighing, Lucifer filled another cup with a similar mixture. "I didn't plan on being there for years, but you're right. I'm sorry, Maze."

"Damn right that I'm-- wait what?" The look of horror on the demon's face caused Lucifer to grin sadistically. "No, you're never sorry. Who are you and what did you do with Lucifer?"

"I don't lie, Mazikeen, but I'm not really the one who did anything to me." He took a long sip from his concoction, the bitter coffee blending well with the taste of alcohol. His mind ventured back to that room briefly, Uriel's voice whispering in his ear. "No, I guess I was, but not really the point. I'm here now. I can't take you back to Hell, though. Not yet, anyway."

"Why didn't you come back to Lux?" Maze questioned. She sounded hurt and a touch concerned and Lucifer quietly cursed himself for doing it again. At least looking at her didn't make her crumble in his mind's eye like the rest. Immortality was a blessing, he supposed, even in his head.

"I'm not really planning on staying, Mazikeen. I'm bound here for another ten months, but after that I am leaving. Didn't seem right to resume ownership for just a year." He sipped his drink again. "Besides, the name of the game is 'incognito' for now."

"Why are you staying here for a year?" Maze snarled. "Why not leave immediately then? I would have understood."

Not really, but she probably would have followed. The demon was good like that. For all her self-proclaimed hatred of being a loyal servant to the Devil, there was no one Lucifer trusted more at his side. Their bond went beyond petty human emotions.

"I made a deal. With the Spawn," Lucifer explained. "Or settled one anyway."

"Trixie knows you're here, but you couldn't be bothered to even visit me? Typical." Mazikeen tilted the rest of her drink back, chugging the mixture before thrusting the cup back at Lucifer. He obligingly filled the cup again. "And you visited Decker. Despite the fact she's the reason you left."

"I don't blame the Detective," Lucifer mumbled. "But yes, I visited her once. And only once. And she was asleep, so you can't really call it a visit."

"Except that you healed her," the demon snapped.

"How did you--" the Devil replied, stopping himself when the flutter of wings announced the presence of another person and a body collided into his, punching him in the shoulder with one arm and wrapping him into a hug with the other. 

The awkward attack was followed by a loud "Where the hell have you been, Lu?"

"Exactly there," Lucifer retorted, frowning at his younger sister. Idly, he thought he should have clarified to Miss Lopez that 'anyone' included spirits, but that may have raised a few more questions.

"No way, I looked in Hell, Lu. You were no where to be found."

"Clearly, you didn't look in the right place."

Mazikeen snorted, glaring at her lord. "You mean to claim you were actually in a Hell Loop of your own making?"

Azrael gasped slightly, but Lucifer tilted his head in curiosity. "Amenadiel tell you that?" He didn't want to confirm the fact, didn't want the two to try and open that particular topic up. Denying it would be lying, though, so he left the answer in limbo.

Maze rolled her eyes. "I don't buy it. You're the Lord of Hell. You can't get trapped in your own kingdom."

"Does it matter?" Lucifer dodged. "I'm here now. And, apparently, so are you two."

"How did you find out, Rae?" Mazikeen asked, looking down on the angel. Lucifer glanced between the two as Azrael freed him from her grasp at last.

"Ella told me."

"Oh, so you tell Trixie and _Ella_ now?" 

"Not intentionally," Lucifer defended. "She is the one who found me, not the other way around. But no worries, I've sworn her to secrecy." He finished his drink off and dropped it in the trash.

"Oh, I'm not worried. In fact, I'm pissed. Why would I be okay with you hiding?" Mazikeen folded her arms over her chest, glowering.

"Because I asked nicely."

"You didn't ask at all!"

"Well, not you, but Miss Lopez." Lucifer groaned, running a hand through his hair. "Look, Mazikeen, Azrael, please don't tell anyone I'm here. I really don't want to deal with... Anyone from before if I can help it."

"Which is why you opened a coffee shop so close to Trixie's school," Mazikeen growled. "I don't buy it."

"She already knew before I bought the place," Lucifer countered. She was right, however. He was selfish and wanted to keep his connection to Beatrice, any connection really. It was a bad habit. The friends he made before he left were so good, so wonderful that they'd forgive him and accept him back despite his antics. But that was why he should let them go. He was a plague on their good will, a corruption they wouldn't realize until they were dragged to Hell and cursed his name as they went.

He should let them go before it got that far, but he couldn't. He wanted their friendship, and it was hard to give up things that he wanted. Perhaps... Perhaps it was best the Detective take the Spawn from him. Lucifer clearly couldn't be trusted to do the right thing.

"Lu?" Azrael patted his arm and snapped him back to reality.He darted between the two women, seeing worry painted plainly on the angel's face and thinly veiled on the demon's.

"Bloody hell," he grumbled, stepping away from Rae. "I'm fine. Look, the Spawn and I made a deal, but outside of that I'm not seeking out any other connections. Just let me be, please."

"Lucifer, what the hell was that?" Mazikeen stepped forward, ready to fight an invisible, incorporeal foe.

"It wasn't anything for you to worry about," Lucifer snapped.

"Lu, you looked like you saw a ghost," Azrael whispered. "Or, well, I guess something horrific."

"As. I. Said. You two do not need to worry about me. Now, I've just about had it with visitors. You two should leave."

The women exchanged a look that spoke volumes before Mazikeen nodded at some silent conclusion and turned back to Lucifer. "You need to talk to Linda."

"What part of 'I don't want to deal with them' do you not understand? No, I'm not seeking out the doctor." Lucier rolled his eyes.

"You need to, Lu. You look like you could use a lot of help."

"Well, looks can be deceiving. Besides, I'm getting help." Lucifer clenched his fists and began walking up the stairs to his room. "Now, don't make me repeat myself. I am not in the mood."

He didn't wait to see if the two left, only knew they didn't follow as he shut himself in his bedroom, shaking as he tried once again to find his grounding points--sight, smell, touch, sound--but failed.

*

Trixie was proud of the fact she only dozed off twice during the school day. Sleep depraved, she talked with the fellow club mates, apologizing as she explained she wasn't going to make the first meeting ever. Noah and Sarah brushed off her apologies, saying they could handle things in her absence. Even though Trixie was essentially the president. She promised to make it up to them anyway.

Sitting on the chair in front of Mr. Grant's desk was somehow easier. Disappointing him didn't feel as bad as failing her friends, especially when it was because Lucifer needed her. The substitute-turned-permanent teacher was quietly sorting a few papers for a few minutes, but he eventually looked up and smiled gently at Trixie. "Yes, Miss Decker? How can I help?" Mr. Grant had a natural charisma that shined with his cheery tone and smile.

"I wanted to let you know that I'm not going to make it to the club meeting today. I know it's the first one, but a family emergency came up last night and I need to handle some follow up," Trixie explained, the half-lie falling from her lips easily.

"Oh? That's a shame, but we should be able to handle things just fine, though. It is, after all, a 'glorified study group'." His grin widened as he quoted their club's explanation from the paperwork they'd turned in.

"Christian and Jesus said they won't be able to go either. Something similar with Jesus, I think, and Christian has work," Trixie hastily added, knowing it was a lie.

"So our first meeting will be missing nearly half the group? Just as well. I'll let you know how things go. Since we don't have a secretary yet, who do you think should take minutes? And don't give me that surprised look; you're listed as the president on the paper." Grant's laugh was also charming, but not nearly as much as Lucifer's. This man could easily convince someone to buy a vacuum when he showed up at their door, or some other such nonsense that door-to-door salesmen drum up.

"Um, Esther would probably be the best person for that. She's the most organized and doesn't talk much, so she'll be able to focus more on what everyone else says."

"Esther it is. Ask her for the minutes later, then. I'll see you tomorrow, though?"

"Bright eyed and bushy tailed," Trixie replied, grinning wide. She took it as a dismissal and stood up, bobbing a brief bow. As she turned to leave, however, Mr. Grant called out to her.

"Miss Decker. I couldn't help but notice your necklace." His eyes darted to the feather around her neck that had slipped from it's hiding place. "It's gorgeous. Where did you get it?"

Absently clutching it, Trixie shrugged. "It was a gift from a friend. You'd have to ask him." She spun around quickly, doing her best to ignore the eyes on her back. Mr. Grant had been nothing but friendly; she was just being paranoid. There was no way he knew what the feather actually was.


	11. Use That Brain of Yours

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, sorry this chapter was late again. I am actually moving update days to Thursdays and Sundays (instead of Wednesdays and Saturdays) as I have those days off most weeks.
> 
> Second, this fic is officially one month old! Woo!
> 
> Once again, thank you all for your support. It means the world to me.

**These sessions were getting annoying. It was only the second one, but already Maze was ready to call it quits. Chloe Knew. So what? It made no difference to Mazikeen and Lucifer should be the one to sort this all out, not her. But Lucifer wasn't here. Nor was Amenadiel, wherever he ran off to. And that left Maze as the resident supernatural buff, with Linda as mediator. Actually, it was more Chloe asked the questions, Linda answered if she could and Maze corrected any mistakes--if she felt like it--or answered the ones Linda couldn't. It was still tiring, especially when it was obvious Decker was just building up to bigger questions.**

**"Okay, so why am I immune to Lucifer's desire mojo?" Like that question. "Are there others like me?"**

**"Not that I know of..." Linda hesitantly replied, clearly trying to figure out how to explain the situation delicately.**

**Groaning at the delay, Mazikeen set her whiskey down and glared at the detective. "It's because you're a miracle."**

**"A what?"**

**"Your parents couldn't have kids, so God sent Amenadiel to bless your mom, and next thing you know Granny Panties Decker was born." Tilting her head as she studied the woman in front of her. "Were you born with granny panties or just grew in to them?"**

**"Maze! " Linda gasped. "People aren't born with clothes on!"**

**"I knew that." Sort of. Honestly, it was a fifty-fifty chance, and really most of the births she'd seen--all from people's hell loops--were just covered in too much blood to tell if the child had clothes or not. Actually, it was rare the child came out a child instead of some deformed monster. Maze was running blind here. "I meant figuratively or whatever."**

**Chloe rubbed her temples. "So, I was created by my mom being blessed by Amenadiel? Does that mean my mother's immune too?"**

**"Couldn't tell you. I doubt Lucifer has tried anything on her if she is. But I don't think so." Mazikeen finished off her alcohol before glancing out the window. "He tends to use his powers automatically, after all."**

**"Like his natural charisma isn't _entirely_ natural," Linda added. "Not that he isn't charming, but even in his worst state he draws peope in like honey. Or so he says."**

**"Yeah, I've noticed," Chloe mumbled. "Then what about Trixie? Did the 'blessing' go to her as well?"**

**"Again, hard to tell. Trixie is pretty chill, but that makes it hard to tell if she likes Lucifer for Lucifer or if she's affected by his charm," Maze answered.**

**"But he hasn't used his mojo and such on her?" Chloe questioned.**

**"Not that I'm aware. That's not the question you really want an answer to, though, Decker. Stop walking around it. It's annoying."**

**Chloe frowned, glancing between the two and shrugging in feigned nonchalance. "Why did... Um God make Amenadiel do that?"**

**Mazikeen's grin turned sinister and she leaned forward. She'd been curious about Chloe's response ever since they found out. How would a human take knowing she was born to fall in love with the Devil? Created to be set in his path? If Lucifer didn't take it well--well that actually wasn't a good indicator. Lucifer was, after all, the most dramatic of people. Still, he was used to his Father's manipulations. "You were made so that Lucifer and you could cross paths," Maze explained, dryly.**

**Chloe raised an eyebrow in confusion. "So we could cross paths."**

**"Yep," Maze snapped, still smirking. "I mean, what could possibly draw the Devil in more than a woman who resists his charms? You were a fascinating creature to him." At first, at least. Maze remembered, back before Lucifer and her ended up on such shaky grounds, feeling terrible at breaking the news to Lucifer, seeing her former boss' heart break. She wasn't just fascinating to him; she was everything. To the point of discarding the demon.**

**Thus, phrasing it like that wasn't fair, which was immediately evident by the pain on the detective's face, which she quickly tried to cover. Linda jumped in at that point, slapping the demon with the back of her hand. "That was what definitely pulled him to you at first," Linda said. "I remember when I first met you two at how disturbed yet fascinated by you he was, a woman who didn't just submit to him. However, it'd be difficult to claim anything about his relationship with you was sincere. I mean, he knew about your origin, but he still came back to you. Despite the fact he'd be the first to tell you he hates his Father's manipulations more than anything else."**

**Chloe sat back, the pain still obvious, but she swallowed and nodded. "Okay. Okay. I think that's enough for now, though. I'm... I'm going to go home. I'll call you guys up next time I have questions." She stood up, stretching slightly and then nodding to herself in reassurance.**

**"You can also text us with any other questions if you think it'll be simple. I'll do my best to answer them." Linda remained seated as Chloe left, but the moment the elevator doors closed, she hit Mazikeen again.**

**"Ow!" Maze feigned pain, frowning at her friend. "What was that for?"**

**"It's not Chloe's fault that Lucifer is gone."**

**"I know that." Mazikeen sniffed. Linda silently stared at demon for a few moments before Maze huffed out a breath. "I do! It's just... I can't help but think that he wouldn't have left if Decker hadn't reacted so poorly."**

**"And how is that not blaming Chloe?"**

**"It's just not," Mazikeen denied, sighing again and leaning back. "Everything will be back to normal when he returns. I'm sure of it."  
**  
*Six Years Later*

Waking up a couple hours later in a bed that was distinctly not hers was always startling for Chloe, but easy to recover from. She studied her hand again, seeing no sign of injury despite the fact a knife had gone through it entirely just that morning. Divinity. She suddenly had enough divinity to cause her wounds to glow and heal in mere moments. What was going on?

"Welcome to the land of the living," Maze greeted when Chloe dragged herself out of the bed. The detective nodded and waved a hand at the glass of whiskey offered to her. Coffee was not a thing the bounty hunter kept in the penthouse, so she didn't even try to ask.

Sitting on a stool, Chloe continued to study her hand. "Why is this happening?" she asked herself aloud.

"Really, Decker?" Mazikeen snorted. "You're a smart woman and you've no idea why?" Chloe turned blue eyes onto the demon and Maze sipped from her bottle. "I've no doubt you'll figure it out without my help, so don't even ask. Just stop denying it and use that brain of yours."

The demon left at that, leaving the conversation short and bereft of emotion, but that was standard. Six years had mellowed Mazikeen out a bit, but she would always be emotionally distant. 

Considering her words, Decker propped her head in one palm, elbow on the bar. There was definitely hints, she thought. And an obvious, immediate conclusion she was leaning towards, for better or worse. First was Amenadiel. His odd silence before answering her question. But he said no. But he wasn't like his brother; he was willing to lie. Did he lie?

She hadn't heard anything of Lucifer's return, though, and he was the kind of person to show up with a grand musical number and cabaret dancers. Unless he was hiding deliberately. That didn't sound like Lucifer, but six years could change a man--angel, devil, whatever. And Mazikeen seemed to know the source, so it was connected to someone who she knew, but not Amenadiel. Assuming the demon hadn't lied as that was something she would absolutely do too. Really, the only person Chloe wouldn't expect to lie was the man in question.

Was she really considering Lucifer had returned and, for some reason... Charged, filled, blessed? For some reason blessed her with enough divinity to have her glow like flashlight? Or was she being influenced by her dreams? Especially the ones that felt startling like a real conversation with him.

Decker hit her head with her palm as if it'd settle her thoughts into a rational order. Lucifer being back was the only thing that made sense, except it absolute made no sense when it came to the man she knew. Maybe he just swung by, blessed her, and then left again? But why? When? She hadn't been healing for long, though Chloe supposed she'd had no major injury for a while. Unless, cancer counted.

For some reason, her mind went to her daughter briefly. The little girl who had grown up but was still so very much her monkey. Trixie had been acting off for a little while. Chloe had thought it was due to the roller coaster of the cancer and it healing, coupled with her daughter being "that age." But then there was that necklace. The feather. A gift from a friend, one Trixie wasn't interested in--not that way--but one she still thought she knew well enough to know his interests. She'd received that months ago, though.

Chloe stood up abruptly and stormed to the bedroom where Mazikeen was halfway through a routine of punching a dummy. For a moment, the detective was drawn in. Mazikeen made fist fighting an art, both gorgeous and deadly in equal amounts. Brutal and efficient, but fluid like a cat. The detective cleared her throat, stopping the demon mid-swing. "How long?"

"I don't know. A month or two. I haven't been keeping track," Maze answered, punching the dummy in the face. The paper on the face had red eyes and horns on it.

"Have you... Talked to him?"

"Once. Today. Didn't get to talk much before he did what he always does and left on his own terms." Mazikeen snorted. 

"Did he say why he hasn't come back to..." Me, us. "Lux? Where is he?"

"Nope," the demon replied, not answering the second question, folding her arms on in her chest instead. "Look, Decker, I'm pissed, but I'm not going betray him like that. I don't know what's going on, only that _something_ is going on. If I figure it out, I'll tell you, but I don't plan on figuring it out. It's out of my depth." Meaning it had to do with emotions, Mazikeen's worse skill, if emotions could be a skill.

Maze returned to punching the daylights out of Luci-dummy, and Chloe watched as she thought carefully about what was going on. Did Lucifer not want to see her? Did she want to see him? What happened to having a fresh start? Maybe... Maybe she shouldn't see her wayward Devil. Especially if it wasn't what was best for both of them. But, she resolved, she would see him at least once. Once everything was squared away and there was no turning back. To apologize, because she owed him that above all else.

*

Facial recognition came back on only some of the people in the picture, most too covered up by the others or too damaged to identify. The man in front was the one that stood out, though. A friendly looking man, if a bit aged. He stood in front of the group and off to the side so that he wasn't in the way of the sign. The group in the picture looked ragged, but happy, except this man. He was happy like the rest, but his outfit screamed money in contrast to the practically homeless appearance of the others.

"Carmen Grant," Daniel introduced the man, showing his picture on the screen. "Used to run a black market auction for religious artifacts, but he dropped out of it a few years ago, allegedly. On both parts. He's known for hosting charities, this seeming to be one of his first ones. These days he does lectures at colleges or substitutes in public schools."

"So from shady businesses to innocent donations? What caused the change of heart?" Ella asked, sipping from a police issue coffee cup. It was not nearly as good as Lucifer's.

"No idea. I never met the guy," Daniel answered, frowning at the picture. "Still, he's about the best lead we have. I've called him in for an interview, but he's not remotely a suspect. Just someone who knows the victim. One of the only ones. The rest are hard to track down, either without an address or already dead."

"Doesn't sound like the charity helped."

"Well, the ones who died were only a couple years back, both of drug overdose, so I don't think it's connected."

Daniel looked up and shrugged. "He's here, though, so I guess we'll have to get what we can now from him." The detective strolled out of the room and into an interrogation room. Ella followed, but slipped into the observation room instead.

In real life, Carment came off as even more friendly and charismatic, smiling at Dan affably. "To what do I owe the honor of being summoned here?" the man asked. Before Espinoza could reply, though, the door opened and Officer Trent--Dan's partner for now--walked in and nodded in greeting to both men.

Clearing his throat, Dan replied "We're here to ask you about Sally Monroe. What can you tell us about her?"

"Sally? Oh dear, I haven't seen Sally in over a year. She left our group a bit back. We tried to reach out to her, but she cut off all contact. What trouble has she gotten into? She's a good girl, officer, but she has a habit of... Slipping sometimes."

"Yeah, well, she slipped a bit too far, I guess," Dan mumbled.

"She didn't... She didn't kill someone, did she?" Carmen looked legitimately concerned over this, fidgeting with a piece of cloth he held.

"No. Um, no, the opposite actually. We found Sally Monroe dead a few nights ago. Can you verify your location for Sunday night around nine p.m.?"

"You don't think I did it?" Carmen gasped.

"No, we're just covering our bases," Dan hastily assured and the man nodded, looking forlorn.

"I was in council, I believe. If not, I was grading papers. I don't recall exactly what time our meeting ended, but my group could vouch for me for most of the evening." He tilted his head to the sky as if in worship. Dan shifted uneasily and so did Ella. Something was wrong about that particular gesture, though everything else about the man was overall warming.

"What is this group?" Dan asked. "Do you know who all was there and would any have a potential grudge against Sally for leaving?"

"I don't know, Officer, but I have attendance records and I could provide it if you think it'll help." Carmen pulled out a small appointment book and offered it to Dan. "This contains all our members who were in attendance since January and what days they were there."

Flipping through the pages, Dan nodded. "This'll help. Do you have contact information for the members?"

"Some, but only those that wish to give it. We don't try to force anyone to stay, though most do."

Dan nodded again and closed the book, handing it to Trent. As he passed it off, Ella caught a glimpse of the words on the cover. "Heaven on Earth."

*

Something was odd, Trixie realized, after the first meeting. It was hard to place exactly what, but her friends seemed happier than normal. And not naturally so, but more like they'd all broken into Lucifer's stash of drugs and were riding the last trails of a high. It was subtle, though, so Trixie wasn't entirely sure of herself. Maybe she was just imagining it, riding her own sort of happy high at knowing Lu had reconnected with at least one other person.

Except, Christian and Jesus seemed much the same and Esther--quiet, thoughtful Esther--suddenly became much more chatty. It all just felt off.

However, Trixie was quickly distracted when Thursday rolled around and the teens stepped into the cafe after a meeting, a few books still in hand and the intention to wrap up the last assignment at the Redeye Roast. A familiar figure was standing at the counter, and the owner was chatting rather casually with her. Startlingly casual, with the clever smile and teasing glimmer in his eyes.

"Maze!" Trixie called, running past the line with none of her usual reservation. There was only two people after Maze anyway. Sarah was on her heels, a huge fan of the demon's fighting skills.

"Trixie!" the demon replied, grin on her face as she stepped back and accepted the teen's hug, though she didn't return it. "Keeping up with your practice, right?"

"Of course! Sarah and I spar at least once a week, too," Trixie cheered, nudging her other friend who smiled shyly at Mazikeen.

"Hi, Miss Maze," Sarah greeted. Maze rolled her eyes and Lucifer laughed openly behind the counter.

"Ah, Miss Maze," the barista crowed. "You've been teaching these impressionable young girls to be a blood thirsty bounty hunter? Good job."

"You know Maze, Lu?" Noah questioned, sliding up beside the rest.

Moving to the machines, Lucifer gestured to Trixie and Christian to join him behind the counters and help. "Yes, Mazikeen is one of my longest standing..." He trailed off as if unsure what they were, exactly. "I've known Maze far longer than anyone outside of my family. At least, here on Earth that is."

Did something odd flash in front of the other's eyes? Trixie blinked and whatever strangeness she thought she saw was gone, but Lucifer seemed to tense slightly beside her. Huh. The teen glanced at the Devil who brushed off the tension by holding out the first drink to Esther when she joined the others at the counter.

"Lucifer and I go way back," Mazikeen confirmed. 

"Maze used to work for Lu back at his old establishment," Trixie added. "Ninja Bodyguard Bartender, Mom called her."

"Ah, those were the days. When things were simple. Just booze, sex, and fighting," Maze purred, holding her cup up in mock cheer.Lucfer mimicked the gesture with an empty cup.

Trixie frowned at the two of them. "But neither of you knew me back then," she pouted.

"I never said I wanted to go back entirely. There's just some things about that life I missed," Mazikeen grumbled. Eyes turned to Lucifer who shrugged.

"I can't say I don't miss those days, but there are good things about my current life, I suppose." Lucifer didn't quite meet Trixie's gaze as he handed off the next drink. As he glanced above the teenager's heads, he let out an audible sigh.

"Woah, quite a crowd you got here, Lu," Ella called as she walked in. This time, Christian tensed up behind the counter, warily glancing at his boss as if expecting the man to crumble in front of him.

Instead Lucifer handed off another drink, waved the group to the side and the next actual customer forward. Once he took the orders and charged them, he flashed a strained grin at Ella, barely looking in her direction. "Miss Lopez. I thought we agreed you'd keep quiet about my return."

"I did!" the scientist protested.

"Did you now?" the Devil replied, though he didn't chase down the answer as he handed drinks off again. "What brings you back, anyway?"

"Well, I was in the area for one," Ella noted. "And I'd come by to see my friend even if I wasn't." She reached over and tried to punch Lucifer's shoulder, but he stepped easily out of the way. 

"Mm, a murder happened around this area?" 

"Yep. And we're looking for a few things in the area." Ella yawned slightly. "It's a complete befuddling case, though. Our only lead is some strange cult-charity-group-thing. Dan's interviewing members now, but I'm tired of just talking to them so I figured I'd check the crime scene for a few more clues."

"No luck, I presume," Lucifer noted.

"Nope. So now I'm here!" She grinned and waved at the rest of the group. "Hi, by the way! I'm Ella, Trixie and Lucifer's friend!"

"Hey!" Mazikeen snapped and Ella laughed.

"And fellow tribemate with THE Mazikeen Smith!"

The teens easily welcomed the two older women as they were shooed off with their drinks. Lucifer slipped into the backroom the moment they left, leaving Christian with an impromptu short shift, but overall Trixie thought things were going well. She kept glancing Lucifer's direction, smiling warmly to herself as she realized her hopes were being realized. Lucifer was warming up again, reconnecting with everyone. It was... Nice.

*

The next day, Trixie was greeted by her mother at the door. The hour wasn't quite so late, but somehow it looked like her mom had been pacing the living room floor for hours. Maybe she was nervous about going back to work? It'd been eight or nine months, even the great Chloe Decker might be apprehensive. Trixie hugged her mother, smiling brightly. Chloe returned the embrace with a soft "Monkey" and invited her out for a mother-daughter day.

Since it was early evening, they went out for ice cream. The warm night air made the cold treat wonderful as they sat in a park, both situated on a railing facing a pond. "How's school going?" Chloe asked.

"Fine. Our club is up and running and we were talking about continuing it in the summer. Doing study sessions and possibly having Maze teach each of us some basic self-defense tricks. And we all agreed that if we do well with finals we will take a trip somewhere." She winced slightly. "I mean, assuming you guys are okay with it. We'll have Maze supervise us!"

Chloe laughed, though she seemed a bit worried. "Somehow Mazikeen being your adult supervision doesn't reassure me."

"Oh please, she hasn't given pot brownies to a teacher in _ages_ , and I'll make her promise to leave the alcohol behind."

"Maybe," her mom conceded. "But only if you can convince another adult to come along."

"Oh! I have a few people in mind to ask!" Trixie replied, earning a sly glance from her mom and the teen shrugged. "Our club adviser for one. He's really friendly. I think you'd like him." Also Lucifer, though she suspected he'd decline. That'd require he close the cafe for a few days, especially since Christian would be with them. Maybe Trixie could convince Amenadiel to cover that week? Except the man seemed more interested in drowning drinks in sugar than anything. Who knew angels could have a sweet tooth? 

"That sounds fine, then," Chloe agreed, gaze turning over the expanse of the pond. "But you'll have to make your plans for early summer, Monkey."

"Huh, why's that? A family trip?" Trixie questioned excitedly. Her parents usually skipped the trip nowadays, but they'd taken it twice in the last six years together. Otherwise it was just one parent and a friend of Trixie's. Not that that wasn't fun, but time with both her parents in the wilderness was a great treat.

"No." Taking a deep breath, Chloe shook her head slowly before continuing. "Your dad said he mentioned it, but right after that things started to change so I understand if you don't remember. Dan's being transferred to Seattle. And so am I. We'll be leaving mid-August."

Suddenly, the warm weather of Los Angeles was stifling. "No," Trixie said simply.

"Look, Monkey, I think it's for the best. I don't want you to be separated from either of us, and I'm not quite back on my feet financially anyway. Once I get back to work, I'll be saving every last penny, but Dan and I talked and we both agreed it'd be best if we both went."

"No!" the teen denied again, pushing off of the railing and spinning to face her mother with her hands on her hips, clenched into fists. "No! I won't go!"

"Monkey, sweetheart, I can't leave you here."

"Then don't go! Neither of you should go!" Trixie yelled.

"It's already been filed. I know you don't want to do this, Trixie, but I--"

"You didn't even ask me! Neither of you did! I don't want to move!" She took several steps back, tears blurring her vision. "What about my friends? What about yours? What about Maze? " Her mind turned to Lucifer, who was finally starting to do better but so obviously needed the help. Christian had even noted that Lu seemed to treat Trixie like a lifeline. What if that was taken away? "He needs me," she whispered. "I won't go!"

She ran off, towards the direction of her home. Anger and sorrow bubbling out of her eyes. Her mother was left behind on the park railing, but Trixie didn't look back to see her mother's reaction. She didn't catch the sorrow reflected in the detective's eyes, nor the consideration and understanding. She also wasn't there when her mother got home, opening the door to the teen's room to try and talk things over.

Anger drove her away from her mom, and sorrow made her decide to never return.


	12. Satan did Good

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for your wonderful support! I may or may not be a bit emotional (We're over 100 comments and 300 kudos! Dear God!)
> 
> Anyway, it is 6pm here so we're still Sunday in the land of Vaellin! Hope you all enjoy the new chapter
> 
> (ALSO IF YOU HAVEN'T HEARD, WE'RE GETTING A FIFTH SEASON! Final one, but at least they know in advanced. Better than being cancelled and ending on a cliffhanger, right?)

T **Lucifer dragged a hand over the instrument before delicately pressing down on a key. The man beside him stood anxiously, rubbing his hands together as he watched his customer touch the fragile, expensive creation. Lucifer lifted a finger and pressed down on the same key, a little more quickly and listen with a soft hum as a single note played out. He tried again with a few more, the sound similar to many string instruments he'd held but not quite the same. Deft hands began to pluck at the bars, creating a simple melody.**

**The Devil was quick to memorize how each note sounded after a few bars, studying the pedals beneath him and then testing them out with the same initial cautiousness. This, too, quickly transitioned to familiarity. Far quicker than most of Lucifer's usual skills; it was as natural to him as languages, or singing.**

**"Is it to your liking?" the merchant asked, a bit of the tension dropped at Lucifer's skill.**

**"Mm, what was this instrument called again?" Lucifer inquired as he tested out a few combinations of chords.**

**"A piano. It's the latest instrument in Italy and was crafted--"**

**"I don't care about your history lesson," Lucifer interrupted. He lifted both hands before the keys and, watching the beautiful instrument itself, began to pick out notes that were new but all too nostalgic.**

**Humans spent so long trying to reach Heaven, trying to recreate the Silver City, but Lucifer wondered if they really knew just how close they'd gotten to obtaining a piece of that paradise. He didn't regret leaving Heaven, but there were definitely things he missed. Music was one of them. Here, sitting in front of this piano, he felt like he had finally found it again.**

**Fingers swept across the notes, easily translating the songs of his brethren into ringing from the hammers and strings. He wasn't sure how long he played. Minutes, hours, days, it was all irrelevant. He didn't want to stop, humming to himself the same song that came out before him through his fingertips. But all good things come to an end and eventually, he let the notes trail off.**

**The merchant, and a few customers that happened to be nearby, stared at him in awe. "Have you played before?" the man begged, flushed as if facing the most beautiful woman, naked and wanting, not a man before an instrument.**

**"I'll take it," Lucifer stated, ignoring the man's question. Amenadiel would eventually be along again, whether it be the next day or a year from now, and Lucifer would be separated again from his music, but he'd enjoy every moment until then. For once, he'd skip the carnal pleasures, though he'd never tell his pompous brother than, and indulge in simple comfort.**

**After all, there was no music in Hell.  
**

*Many, Many Years later*

Lucifer leaned against the wall outside his cafe, fingers holding a cigarette, lit but forgotten. The small alleyway between his building and the business next to it--a clothing store that had appreciated the boom to business Redeye Roast brought--was well lit if a bit stuffy. The warmth and light was what he sought out, too shaken to go out front where it was night and streetlights flickered like cheap stars. It was too much like his loop, and he could barely tolerate it on good days. This was not a good day.

The Spawn had shown up, tears still rolling down her face and body shaking with sobs. She'd looked every bit the child he'd left behind six years ago and it took all his effort not to fall into the ramblings of her ghost image, reminding him of how he wronged her as well. Fortunately, the voice was off. Beatrice sounded much older even in hysterics as she explained to him that she didn't want to move.

Lucifer had pulled her into a hug, surprising both of them, and held her until her sobs stilled and she joined him back inside for something to drink. Water, she'd insisted, giggling when he'd automatically started to make coffee. He'd begrudgingly taken the espresso for himself and then urged her to explain everything, though he knew a good portion of it from his--well, the Detective's--dream. At the very least, it confirmed his suspicions.

"And so I left," Beatrice finished. "I called Sarah to have her cover for me. She agreed to say I was staying the night, but I don't want to go back. I don't want to leave you, Lucifer." The teen sniffed, looking fully ready to break down again. Lucifer flailed a bit, patting her shoulder nervously.

"There, there, no need to cry, Spawn," Lucifer begged. "Again. You can stay here for now if you want. I'll pick up the room and you'll stay on the bed." The break room couch would be uncomfortable for his long frame, but he suspected he wouldn't be sleeping anyway so at least one of them should use the bed.

Trixie nodded, sniffing again. "I can help you clean up," she offered.

"Appreciated, but somehow I doubt your mother would be okay with that." Too many... Adult items, he figured. Beatrice sniffed once more, but this time it was in dismissal over her mother's opinion, clearly still angry. "Look, I'll handle it, you just drink your water and calm down."

So, he slipped upstairs, hid most of the illicit and naughty goods away and straightened up the floor, bed, and closet, frowning slightly as he did. How long had it been since he'd actually done this? It used to be automatic, either through paid help or his own picky preferences. He didn't like the mess unless it was a sign of a good time. His room appeared a depressed as he felt, a certain finality to it that he wanted to shake off. Turning on a desk lamp and tossing the curtains open helped, but not much. It'd have to do.

The Devil returned to the teenager and instructed her to get some rest. They'd talk plans in the morning when they were both more refreshed and emotions better under control. Then, he strolled out to the alleyway and pretended he didn't hear Uriel's taunting voice in his ear.

Was this some kind of test? His Father trying to make sure Lucifer did the right thing? Taunting him by presenting the one thing he couldn't let go before him, saying he had to even though neither of them wanted to be separated? He couldn't fathom why Beatrice was so distraught over leaving, but he understood the emotion at least. Hah, wouldn't that be a first, Linda?

But if it was a test, it made no sense. He'd already made the decision to let the spawn go. He'd decided to be selfless for once. It'd been difficult, but what else could he do? Apparently hide the urchin was an option. A selfish one, but one he wanted to do oh so badly. She brought peace with her--most of the time anyway. A peace he needed, desired more than anything as the echos of his sins playing on repeat forever in the back of his mind.

No. Lucifer needed to make the right choice. Was letting Beatrice go the right choice? Really, he wasn't sure, but what he knew of the detective led him to believe she usually followed the morally correct path. He'd have to trust her, even if he disagreed right then.

"Disagree, but why, Brother?" Uriel taunted. Lucifer huffed, pulling his cigarette up and then frowning when he found only a nub. "You already know you're poison. Someone so young would fall to corruption so much more easily. Isn't _that_ what happened? Why she wants to stay? Because you've corrupted her, as you do all good things. Heaven, humans, your family. You're evil."

The Devil closed his eyes, but Uriel's image remained, forever a phantom before him. "Leave me alone," he hissed.

"Why? So you can go around _killing_ again? Or getting others to do it for you, maybe? You've got my blood and Cain's blood on your hands. And you don't even regret Cain, do you?"

Was it possible to regret not regretting something? Lucifer didn't know. He wanted to ask someone, but going to those who might know would be against his own personal vow. Not that he was doing a good job keeping it, what with accepting Ella back into his life.

"Fine. I won't keep her," Lucifer caved, rubbing his face. Uriel's face vanished, but his voice remained a taunting laugh in his ear. "You annoying cretin."

"It's just one tiny right thing in a vast ocean of wrongdoings, brother," Uriel whispered before his voice finally trailed off. Lucifer groaned and opened his eyes again, walking back inside the cafe and discarding the butt of his cigarette on the ground outside. He pulled out his phone, a number not saved but also not forgotten on it, knowing Ella would pick up even from an unknown caller.

"Please tell me you aren't calling someone to pick me up," Beatrice said solemnly. Lucifer turned to the stairs, seeing sad, brown eyes tinted red from crying. "Please, Lucifer, don't call anyone. I don't want to go home."

"You can't stay here, Beatrice. Tonight, yes, and maybe the next day, but you have to go home eventually," Lucifer replied. Beatrice sniffed again, renewed tears starting to form. He flinched, unsure what to do.

"Through the weekend at least," Beatrice requested, rubbing her eyes. "Then I'll figure something out for myself on Monday."

"The weekend," Lucifer agreed. It was a promise, not a deal, but one he intended to keep regardless. He sighed again, sitting at a table. "You'll have to stay in the room unless you want Maze or Ella to find you."

"They won't be looking if I can convince Mom I'm staying with Sarah."

"Your mother is a clever person. Far too clever. She'll figure it out, and then come looking." He wished his voice didn't sound so scared, a lump in his throat forming at the mere thought of facing the detective. Dreams were one thing, real life had him terrified. Instead, he shifted, smiling at the urchin before him. "It's a trait you've thankfully picked up. Your deviousness, I assume, you got from Mazikeen."

"Oh, my Mom's plenty devious," Beatrice noted, sitting down in a chair with her arms crossed. "For one, they made the arrangements to move, apparently, behind my back." She wiped her eyes and stared at the table.

"That's true. She has her moments," Lucifer agreed, remembering when they were first getting along, how she pretended to be infatuated with him in order to see if he wore a vest. She couldn't believe he was what he said he was. She certainly did now, and she'd supposedly come to terms with it, though it might be different when face to face with him again.

"Do you hate your parents?" the child asked, startling Lucifer out of his thoughts. He tilted his head at her in confusion. "I mean, I don't hate Mom. I don't think. But, it made me wonder about you, I guess. The Devil, in scripture, rebelled against God--your dad--and then I remember you talking about your mother when I was younger. Do you... Hate them?"

Lucifer closed his eyes again, turning internally at wounds that hadn't healed in eons. Yet... He shook his head. "That's hard to say," he said. "I resent my father. If there's anyone I hate, it'd be him. He's neglectful, prideful, manipulative, and judgmental." But for as long as he lived, he wanted his father's love. Such a contradiction. "I have no desire to make peace with him. Mum, however... Well she's done some things and almost done some things I cannot forgive her for, but at the very least I've no doubt she loved her children. Myself included."

"What'd your mother do?"

A small smile quirked to his lips. "That's a long story."

"I've got time. At least explain some of it?"

"Very well," Lucifer conceded. He did love a good story, and he knew he wouldn't rest tonight with the nightmares so close. "We'll start with Mum's arrival on Earth. You see, she has no real body, so she had to inhabit a recently vacated one. In this case, it was one Charlotte Richards."

"Wait, Charlotte, as in Dad's late girlfriend Charlotte? Are you trying to tell me my dad dated your mom? Like a goddess or something?"

"Not 'like a goddess', just a Goddess and no he didn't date her." Lucifer gave the teen a sour face. "Well, not really. They did... It disgusts me thinking about it but they did partake in... Flirting I suppose you could say." And more, but he refused to think about the more."But the one he dated was Charlotte herself. When Mum left Charlotte's body, it was enough to bring Charlotte back from the dead. From Hell, actually."

It was, if he thought about it, one good thing about the whole incident. Charlotte had died, after all, and ended up in Hell. Her second chance granted her a turnaround and made her the first soul ever to get a ride to Heaven in the arms of the firstborn. A soft, fond smile at the memory of the woman appeared on his face. Beatrice, however, was confused. Ah, right, he skipped some steps.

So he started again, weaving a tale of his mother's antics, skipping or brushing by some of the darker parts, especially the one with his brother. Eventually, he ended back on the beach. "So, I guess, in order to stop Mum from exploding _and_ going to war, I sent her away. I don't hate her, however. It just was the best way forward. For all of us."

Beatrice smiled and then giggled. When Lucifer raised an eyebrow at her she said "so you saved the world, essentially? The Devil stopped the apocalypse."

"I doubt it was so dramatic, but I did stop an explosion. Saved some lives." He sniffed proudly at that.

"Satan did good," Beatrice cooed. A warmth filled Lucifer's chest and he gaped at her before acting affronted.

"Satan is never good. Now go to bed, you little minx. It is far past your bed time."

"Since when do you care about bed time?"

"Since now. Go, shoo." He waved her off and she giggled as she hurried up the steps, knowing full well she'd successfully teased him. Lucifer didn't mind. It was far better than her crying, after all.

*

The next morning saw Lucifer recanting more tales to Trixie as she settled into her breakfast, delicious as always. Talking about his adventures over the eons seemed to cheer him up, and it distracted her, though she knew she'd have to go back to discussing her future eventually. There was no way she was leaving LA, though, even if she had to go on the streets to do it. Lucifer wouldn't let her, but he also seemed inclined to turn her in. What about Maze? Maybe the demon would hide her.

Lucifer paused mid-sentence, looking over the teens head with a frown. "No, absolute not. If you're going to be here, you're going to be visible. I won't have people thinking I'm talking to a ghost or illusion."

Trixie glanced between him and the space he was looking at by the door until suddenly a woman filled the latter. She was short with a bowl cut hairstyle and her outfit seemed outdated, but still a bit fashionable. Like a hipster with coke bottle glasses.

"You could have done that a bit more elegantly, Lu," the girl mumbled.

"Why? The spawn already knows and you're just being a nuisance, _Sis_." Lucifer sniffed but still went to the machines to prepare a drink for the girl, so she obviously wasn't completely dismissed.

"Still don't know why you told her. But I'm glad you did. Hi, Trixie, pleasure to meet you. Er, really meet you."

Trixie stared in confusion and it was Lucifer that answered. "My sister is a bit of a voyeur. Don't hold it against her, though, it's an occupational hazard as the Angel of Death. Azrael, Beatrice, Beatrice, Azrael."

"You can call me Rae-Rae," Azrael greeted, holding out a hand. Trixie took it slowly.

"Good, you can keep each other occupied while I handle those gentlemen." Lucifer swept away from the two of them, with only one reassured glance back as he opened the door to two men who stood ouside, double checking paperwork. A large covered piano was outside with them.

"Lucifer's sister?" Trixie inquired, moving behind the counter to finish the drink Lucifer had started and forgotten in the span of moments.

"Yeah, I mean all of us angels are siblings. A large family, really, but Lu's my favorite."

Trixie grinned. "He's my favorite too."

"I'll try not to take offense," Rae-Rae teased, pulling up beside Trixie. "I'm glad he has you, by the way. You two doing okay?"

"We're doing okay," Trixie confirmed. "Could be better, but okay for now. Actually, Lucifer was just teling me a story last night! Is it true your weapon makes people want to kill?"

Azrael winced. "Uh, yeah, apparently. I don't let the weapon out of my sight usually, but my brother Uriel stole it and uh... Well it had a totally not rad ending, I guess."

"Sounded dangerous, but Lucifer said you could resist it with a strong enough will." Specifically, he said her father surprised him with his strength of will that helped them stop fighting. Trixie did note that Lucifer put effort to not hurt Dan, though the Devil slid over that as if it was natural for him. "Has anyone else ever held the blade, human wise?"

"Nope," Rae-Rae answered. "This was a first, really, but it'd been used in war before."

"Oh?" Trixie could imagine what war, especially when Azrael tossed a frown at the younger girl. "But wasn't it Lucifer's in the war?"

"It was taken from him before he could use it, broken into pieces so that it wasn't recognizable. None of us knew, not until Lucifer pieced it together. Literally."

"Do you miss your blade?"

"Well, it made my job easier when handling difficult spirits, but it's not like I really needed it." Azrael shrugged and the door opened again as Lucifer carefully instructed the men to guide the covered piano past tables that were hastily shoved aside. The upright piano ended up in a corner and the stool delicately placed in front.

The girls watched as Lucifer dismissed the men and then uncovered the piano. It was more beat up than Trixie expected, but somehow still magnificent. It was black with ornate carvings that resembled wings. A name seemed to be carved on the side, but the letters weren't quite familiar. Lucifer sat ceremoniously on the stool, grin stretched to split his face.

"Not as beautiful as the pianos at Lux, but I couldn't pass up the opportunity when I saw it." He trailed his fingers up the keys and hummed. "It'll need a bit of tuning, but I should have this up and running in an hour."

Completely ignoring the girls--and opening judging by the way the customers swung by the door and knocked on the glass--the Devil set about fixing his new piano. When he sat back on the bench, forty minutes later, he was still beaming. Fingers posed, he started a melody. It was beautiful and cheerful, reminding Trixie of spring and songbirds. Azrael, surprisngly, hummed along and when Lucifer ended she clapped.

Closing the lid, Lucifer returned to the women and began the late prep work. "I ever tell you that music is the one thing humanity has gotten right, I think? Well, the most important thing. Music is the one language that crosses the boundaries of both space and time. A true song will mean something to everyone, no matter when it is heard. That is why the classics are the classics, though several modern tunes deserve to be recognized as such too."

Trixe smiled and opened her mouth to respond, but groaned when her phone went off--the distinct sound belonging to her mother. She checked the phone as a second one came through.

"Trixie, where are you? I know you're not at Sarah's. I checked," the first message read. The second one followed with "Please respond. I'm not angry, I'm just worried, Monkey."

As she hesitated to respond, a third one came through. "At least answer this: are you with Lucifer?" The teen froze, staring at the message. Her mother knew.


	13. Staying at Lucifer's

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again so much for the support. I know I say it a lot, but it does man a bunch. I try to reply to everyone, make sure you all know that I see and appreciate your comments so much!
> 
> This is now my longest fic, word-wise by the way!

**When Sarah first met Trixie, she didn't like her. The girl in question seemed to be stuck on the fence for everything: an honor student who acted like a rebel; a kind girl who was afraid to shout down someone; defensive about being honest, while letting other, more serious rules be broken. Some explained it had to do with her babysitter, who was a bounty hunter, and her parents, who were cops, but there was definitely more to it than that. She seemed like the type of girl who saw the best in everyone, but didn't even try to force it out. Everyone loved her for it.**

**So, Sarah immediately didn't. Trixie bounded down the halls, showing Sarah around during lunch and having to constantly wait for the other girl to catch up. She seemed oblivious to Sarah's deliberate slight. Instead, she grinned cheekily and asked "You're from Texas, right?"**

**"You couldn't tell?" Sarah sneered.**

**"Nope, not at all! If Mr. Smith hadn't told us, I would have had no clue!"**

**Well, that was awfully honest, and a bit funny. No! She was just trying to needle her way into people's hearts, putting on an act to be popular. Sarah snorted. "Well, it's there if you look."**

**"I don't believe you," Trixie responded. "But no worries, there's a lot people who aren't what they seem." She flashed a grin like she had some sort of secret.**

**"Name one."**

**Trixie paused for a moment, tapping her chin with her eyes cast skyward. "I get the feeling that telling you about Mazikeen wouldn't do it for you." Suddenly her eyes glittered and her grin turned wicked. "What if I told you met the Devil?"**

**Sarah frowned. "That one of your LA cast thing? LA has the ultimate non-angel?"**

**"Actually, that's just the opposite! The Devil is an angel. Even if he forgets it himself sometimes." For a moment, the facade dropped, a frown forming before it was quickly covered with a grin again. "He used to run a night club. All the barely legal stuff, all the fun. Totally like a Devil, right? But really he was nice, scared of children, helped catch criminals, made delicious food, and never lied. Not what he seemed at all."**

**"I don't believe you," Sarah groaned. "Anyone who claims he's the Devil would put up an act. The 'nice' guy is probably the real him."**

**"I agree with you there!" Trixie giggled. "Lucifer was... Is..." She trailed off, smile wobbling a little. "He was great. Definitely a hat. With a shoe hidden underneath."**

**Hat? Shoe? Sarah blinked owlishly at her guide who merely shrugged. "Inside joke. There's a reason the hat is missing in our monopoly board though. Anyway, you like video games? I could introduce you to the game crowd. Or if art is more your style, I think they meet for club tomorrow. What's your poison?"**

**"Actually," Sarah stated with a sniff. "I like martial arts."**

**At that, Trixie's grin turned devious. "Oh, we will have fun."**

*Four Years Later*

"At least answer this: are you with Lucifer?"

She knew. Somehow her mom knew. No, not somehow, her mother was incredibly clever, always had been excluding the short bout where her brain was fighting her. What gave it away? Did Trixie and her piles of cups? The club and their casual conversation of the cafe? Maze or Ella with their discovery of their wayward friend? So many strands were loose.

Honestly, Trixie wanted her mother to meet with Lucifer, but it was far too early. He seemed fine with Trixie, with his sister, but Trixie was noticing the subtle ways he treated Ella at least. Never meeting her eyes, pushing her towards the others so that she was busy talking to them over him. Rae-Rae and Maze were fine, it seemed, though the teen wasn't quite sure why. Nor was she sure why _she_ was okay to be around the Devil.

Chances were, though, her mother was not safe to bring to the cafe owner. But how to hide him? She clutched her phone, deciding playing ignorance was best. "Lucifer's back?!" she texted.

"Don't play dumb, I saw the feather you wear," her mother responded. Trixie's brow furrowed.

"Feather? What's that got to do with Lucifer?"

There was a long delay between responses where Rae tried to engage a distracted Trixie in conversation. The noncommittal statements seemed to be vague enough to draw Lucifer's concerned attention, but the teenager kept her problems to herself. Finally, her mom replied.

"Look, Mazikeen told me he was back. Don't hide it."

So it was Mazikeen. Trixie would have to scold her best friend later. She stared at her phone for a long time, debating on what to say.

"Beatrice, is everything alright?" Lucifer asked, leaning on the counter to look at the messages. Trixie tugged her phone to her chest. 

"I'm talking with Mom," she said, seeing the slight sorrow appear in Lucifer's eyes as he nodded and pulled back without a fight.

"Well, if you need anything from me, let me know." The man slipped past her and towards the door, clearly done with prep work and letting the customers in at last with a cordial apology--he was only two hours late.

"I promise I will." She glanced back at the group before hurrying to a corner to continue her conversation.

"You can't come to him," Trixie told Chloe, typing rapidly. "Yes, I'm at his place. I'm safe, and I promise I'll be back Monday after school. We can talk then. I just need a break, some time to think. But you _can't_ come here." The teenager held her breath after the message, waiting for her mother to come charging over anyway.

"Monday's no good. You know I'm going back to work then."

"Sunday evening then."

"You sure you're safe? Lucifer's never been the most diligent adult. I'd rather you be with Maze."

"Really?"

"No. But at least I'll know where you are."

"Lucifer is great. He fed me normal breakfast and hid all the drugs and hookers. No problems. His sister is here too."

"Fine.” Trixie could feel her mom's reluctance through the devices. “Contact me tonight and tomorrow morning. We'll talk Sunday evening. Love you, Monkey."

"Deal. And I love you too." Trixie shoved her phone in her pocket and was halfway to the counter again before she realized she actually felt much calmer about the situation than before. She still wasn't leaving Los Angeles, no way, but her head wasn't in panic mode anymore.

There did need to be a plan in place, however. She sent a quick message to the club, requesting an emergency meeting at the cafe, and hurried behind the counter. "Let me take over," she insisted. Lucifer frowned at her but she nudged her head to the piano. "Entertain us. I can handle a small crowd at least."

Azrael slipped away at some point while she was working, cheerfully saying good-bye to Lu before she disappeared to her “work.” Music filled the space where she was easily, and the rest of the cafe as well. Soft, melancholic tunes as well as bright upbeat ones. Lucifer seemed to relax more as he played, eventually humming to the music. His voice was rich and pleasant, a man completely in his element.

Was Lucifer always a musician like this, even in Heaven? She'd heard Heaven was paradise, like a homecoming when you were through the pearly gates but, looking at the angel in the corner, Heaven was sitting in a cafe, at a piano, with a bunch of people watching, listening, and drink coffee. 

The club members trickled in at various moments, Christian and Jesus first since they lived the closest. Christian joined Trixie behind the counter without question, raising an eyebrow at his boss playing music instead of working. Jesus commented on how talented Lu was, though, and the subject was dropped.

Sarah was next, instantly cooing over Lu's playing and sitting as close as possible. Jesus moved to join her and the rest of the club congregated around them when they entered. By the time the last member, Maryann, joined, Lucifer had returned behind the counter, shooing the two teens to go chat.

“Okay! What is this meeting about, Trix?” Sarah questioned, pouting slightly at the fact the music stopped. She wasn't the only one, but most were far more subtle about it; the guests shifting to watch Lu closely and silently begging him to resume with their eyes. An advantage of being a friend of the owner meant Sarah could be more vocal, Trix supposed, though Sarah was never one to care anyway about social etiquette.

“We have run into a problem,” Trixie stated, hands on her hips and summoning as much authority as she could. “My mother and father want to take me to Seattle this summer.”

“I assume not on a trip, or you wouldn't be this worried,” Esther noted quietly, sipping her tea.

“Nope. Permanently. My dad is being transferred and my mother decided to transfer with him, since neither of them are um... well the hospital took its toll.” Trixie winced, fully understanding why her mother, who hated being dependent on anyone, especially her ex-husband, was suddenly leaning on him. Six months of little pay—medical leave only went so far—and hospital bills on top of it.

“But you can't!” Noah protested. “You're the club leader!”

“Well, nothing she can do about it. She's still a minor,” Maryann countered.

“Right! Which is why we have to convince my mother not to go. Or my dad. Or both.” Trixie sat on the piano bench, swinging her legs.

“Moving's expensive. We could remind them of that?” Sarah suggested.

“I'm sure they know.” Jesus leaned back in his chair, studying the ceiling. “Why did they decide to move despite the bills and the expensive trip?”

Beatrice shook her head, the memory still painful if dulled by the happier ending. “My dad decided it when my mother had been given her um...” She trailed off, unwilling to finish. Glancing around the cafe, her eyes caught Lucifer's, two pairs of dark eyes connecting. The Devil gave her a tight, encouraging smile, reminding her that Chloe hadn't died, her fate had been avoided. Thanks to the very man who was about to have his support taken away. Trixie returned to the group, though they'd all caught the brief exchange and looked between the two with vague curiosity. “Anyway, Dad wanted a fresh start for when the worst happened, and it's just too late or they went with the flow. At least, I think that's it. Mom and I agreed to talk tomorrow night.”

“Can't he just cancel the transfer request? I'm sure they'd understand, considering the circumstances.” Noah shifted in his seat and Trixie shrugged.

“I'd assumed that was what had happened. Apparently not.”

“Your mother mentioned something about wanting a fresh start as well,” Lucifer commented, walking up to the group and sitting down next to Trixie. The crowd in the cafe had slowed, no customers in line but many still chatting at their tables. The man's return to the piano drew attention, but his back was to the keys. “Something about LA connecting her too much to her memories, I believe.”

“You talked to my mom?” Trixie gasped in disbelief.

Hesitantly, Lucifer shook his head. “No, not exactly.” He hummed slightly. “It's hard to explain, but suffice to say I think I'm to blame for her attempt to escape, and Daniel is just following this time.” He tilted his head with a nostalgic smile on it, hinted with a touch of bitterness. “Far too protective for his own good, that man. I've no idea how the detective ever managed to handle it with her own sense of independence.”

“What about you, Lu?” Jesus questioned, frowning at the cafe owner.

“Hm? What about me?”

“Do you want Trixie to go? Or do you have any ideas on how to make her stay?”

“Ah. That. Well, unfortunately, I'm not the person you should go to with those questions.” Lucifer straightened his back a bit, smile vanishing. “Because I'm of the opinion the spawn should leave.”

“What?” Trixie snapped, turning to the man beside her, pain visible on her face. Didn't he need her? Hadn't they established a connection? Was he really just abandoning her? “Why?”

Lucifer held up a hand to ward off any more protests, and sighed, visibly hurting as he spoke. “I'm not saying Los Angeles is a problem, but I trust your mother to make a sound decision. If she thinks you should go, then you should. It's not like you'll lose your friends, per se. Social media has only gotten more advanced, after all. Plus, Mazikeen will be wherever you go, should you wish it. As a bounty hunter, she probably could set up camp anywhere. Leave Lux to Patrick.”

“What about you?” Trixie demanded.

“I'll... survive. I'm only here for, what, another nine or so months? Hardly worth putting a pause on your future for.” The Devil shifted uneasily. “Besides, it'll decrease the chance of an unfortunate encounter with the detective.”

How could he be so selfish? Trixie stood up, storming away from him with her hands in fists. Maryann joined her, patting her back soothingly while the rest of the club tried to argue with Lucifer, clearly interested in keeping Trixie at the cafe.

Had Trixie read everything wrong? Did Lucifer not actually need her? Was the reason she'd never caused any “attacks” because she was insignificant to him? She sniffed, tears forming again.

Jesus cleared his throat, pulling her attention back to the group, though she kept her eyes down in a vain attempt to hide the forming droplets. “Lu, I couldn't help but notice you didn't actually answer the question.”

“What do you mean?”

“You said what you thought Trixie _should_ do, but not what you _want_ her to do.”

Lucifer's expression turned dark, glaring at the group for a moment. “What I _want_ is irrelevant.”

“I disagree,” Christian whispered. “Trixie is probably the closest thing you have to family right now. And I think you need her.”

“What I _need_ ,” Lucifer hissed, “is for young Beatrice to be safe. I _need_ to make sure that what happened last time doesn't happen again. If that means sending her off to another city, then so be it! I'm done being _selfish_ and acting on my desires with abandon. I made my... I made my choices, and I can't undo them, but I _can_ stop others from making the same damned ones I did.” He stood up suddenly, pacing.

“But this isn't letting her make a choice,” Sarah said, sounding unsure of herself. “It's letting others make a choice for her?”

“And what would you have me do? Pay off their debt, bribe a higher up to deny the transfer, or perhaps kidnap Beatrice so that she can't be whisked away?” Lucifer barked a slight laugh, expression torn as if he'd considered this for far longer than he should have. “Her mother would never forgive me. Not that that matters, I guess, but it does.” He ran a hand through his hair and sniffed. “No, I don't _want_ Beatrice to go, but I've hardly the means to stop her without acting utterly suspicious. And...” Lucifer sighed, frantic energy still around him but seeming to condense. “I cannot figure out another way to let go.”

He shifted slightly at the sound of the door opening, running a hand through his hair again and walking behind the counter to help customers, seemingly oblivious to the stares from everyone else there.

The teens exchanged looks before Noah let out a heavy breath. “Well, he's useless, but at least he's not against us? Kind of?”

“Trixie needs Lu,” Christian said. “And, if I'm not wrong, I think you need Lu as well, Trix.” He offered a weak smile which Trixie returned, sitting down. Somehow, Lucifer's rant made her feel better.

“Well, he did bring up something important. We may potentially have another ally. Maybe it's time to call Mazikeen.”

*

Chloe groaned at her mistake as she stared at the phone, realizing she had no idea if her daughter knew what the feather meant or not. There was far too many mysteries involving Lucifer's return and she really wanted answers but... well she was nervous. A part of her knew all of her resolve to leave would crumble if she met Lucifer, but also she wanted—needed--answers and she wasn't about to get it.

After forming a deal with her daughter—the irony of deals while talking about Lucifer not lost on the detective—Chloe realized she still was worried. She had no idea where her daughter was, and only a vague idea of who. A sister? She didn't think Lucifer was in contact with any sibling other than Amenadiel, and Mazikeen implied that Lucifer liked it that way. Still, there was a way to ensure a check in on her daughter outside of the requested texts.

She dialed Mazikeen's number, surprised when the demon picked up almost instantly. “Maze, hey.”

“Hey, you, Decker. What do you need?”

“Trixie left home last night and is staying at Lucifer's, apparently.” Chloe held her breath for a moment, debating on how to ask her next question without offending either Lucifer or Trixie.

“And you want me to check in on her, make sure she's not getting into any trouble?”

“Yes.” She grimaced slightly. “I've no idea where Lucifer has set up, this time. Do you think you could tell me--”

“No. You can make guesses, Decker, but I'm not telling you anything. I'll check in on the kid, though. I wanted to yell at Lucifer anyway.”

“Thanks Maze.”

The groan at receiving gratitude was Chloe's response before the demon hung up. Chloe stared at the phone a few moments before standing up and looking around the apartment. Ever since Trixie ran out last night, Chloe had felt guilty. She knew she'd blind sided her daughter, and that she was entirely driven by her own selfish decision, but what else could she do?

Her phone rang, vibrating in her hands along with the tune. “Decker speaking,” she answered without really checking the number.

“Chloe! Hey!” Dr. Martin cheered from the phone. “I was looking at my schedule and noticed I have tonight off, since my last appointment for the evening canceled. So, I figured maybe we should get the Tribe together for a night out on the town. I know it's last minute, but it's been far too long since we--”

“That actually sounds great. I'll talk to Ella and Maze?” Chloe interrupted, smiling. Perhaps that was where she'd find her answer.

*

Mazikeen had impeccable timing, apparently, as she walked in an heard the group of teenagers in the corner mention her. Raising an eyebrow, she strolled to their table and leaned against one of the teens—the tall one that sometimes worked behind the counter. “What's this about me?”

The teens all jumped, but the one she was leaning against definitely was the most startled. Trixie was quick to recover, grin wide on her face. “Maze!”

“Maze, don't terrify the customers,” Lucifer barked from the counter, though his tone was more teasing than reprimanding. Maze rolled her eyes at her former boss.

“Well? You summoned a demon, who do you need killed?” Mazikeen taunted, smirk on her face.

“Uh, no killing, nope,” one of the girls—Maryann?--said, holding hands up in surrender.

“No killing, Maze. No hunting either. I just need your help with my mom,” Trixie said. “I need your help convincing her not to move from Los Angeles.”

When was Decker planning on moving? Why? Maze tilted her head in confusion. “What for?”

“Well, because I don't want to go and you're my best friend?” Trixie sounded like a child again, but she'd always been the one child Maze liked.

“I meant why is Decker moving?” She waved a hand off. “Never mind, I'll ask her myself. But sure, I'll keep her here.”

“Without hurting her.”

“That'll be difficult, then,” Maze mumbled. She glanced back at Lucifer who shook his head before she could even ask. So that avenue was out, not that he could use his charm on the detective herself. “Huh, I'll do what I can.”

“Really?” Sarah—the only one Maze recognized on sight—questioned. “That easily?”

“Yeah, sure, anything for Trix. Besides, it'd be a pain to move to out of Los Angeles.”

“Mazikeen, a word please?” Lucifer called out. Maze groaned, looking at the Devil with a sneer. First he leaves her behind, then he returns without telling her, and when she shows up he acts like none of it was his fault! And now his tone carried that note of “you better listen because I'm your king.” Still, Maze wasn't dumb. She patted the head of the teen she was leaning on and smiled at Trixie before turning to join Lucifer who stepped out into the side alley.

Lucifer seemed posed to ask a question, but it never got asked as both stepped out and spotted the most intriguing scene. Maze's eyebrows shot up, impressed with the sight of blood used like art. A small rabbit sat in the center of a red pentagram, with crimson letters above it saying “We will serve you.”

“Looks like you have admirers,” Maze noted.

Instead of disgust at the sight, though, Lucifer closed his eyes. For a moment, he looked exhausted and his age showed on his face, eons on both ends of torture having carved out that very look. When he opened his eyes, anger was all that remained. “So it seems.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this chapter was all over the place. I will confess to being half asleep writing the last scene (which is a terrible idea since Maze's way of thinking is so weird)


	14. Sincerely Yours

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Father's Day!
> 
> Also, I really need to start checking what chapter people are commenting on. May have spoiled some of the story for people commenting on earlier chapters (woops! Sorry people, I don't see what chapter it is I'm replying to when I respond via email)
> 
> Also, probably a bit late but a small disclaimer that I know little of police/crime proceedings. Mostly what I've gleaned from far too many crime dramas, and they're clearly not the most accurate portrayals. But i try!
> 
> Once more, I'm really thankful you all enjoy the story. It makes my day to know that I'm writing something people are actively interested in. Thank you all.

**When Noah befriended Trixie, it had been completely on accident. Originally, he tried to figure out what Trixie had done to his cousin. Not that the girl didn't deserve it, with her bullying tactics, but almost overnight the older girl had gone from abrasive and confrontational to scared of everything. Even years of therapy later, she insisted on acting right, claiming that if she didn't the devil was going to get her. Not that that came into account when Noah approached the last victim of her bullying. No, at that time his cousin was just a frightened almost-middlschooler and Trixie a confusing young lady.**

**Of course, they clashed originally. Noah in defense of his cousin and Trixie in defense of herself, but it all strangely came to an end when one day Trixie showed up asking him if he had a crush on her.**

**Noah laughed in her face, making the girl scrunch her own in disgust. He hadn't even thought once about that with Trixie! "What would make you say that?" he said between chuckles.**

**"Mom says that if you hit someone, it's because they like you."**

**Well, he had hit her during one of their more recent arguments, and instantly regretted it. Noah chuckled again, though he turned flushed at the implication. "No, I don't have a crush on you Trixie. But... I do enjoy hanging out with you. Fights and everything."**

**"You do? I enjoy hanging out with you too!" Trixie beamed at his statement and that was a turning point in their relationship.**

**Over the next few years, they grew up together and helped each other through hard times. Trixie worried often over her mother, especially after an incident that ended in her mother getting poisoned. Noah talked emphatically about his super religious, and therefore restrictive, family. Honestly, he was just glad they'd taken his coming out as well as they did, not quite accepting but also not yelling him out of the house. Mostly, they just ignored it. "Out of sight, out of mind." Instead, his support group came from Trixie and the rest of his friends.**

**Noah and Trixie both felt passionate about space, as well, though for entirely different reasons. He loved gazing at the galaxies above him, craved to learn more about the stars and planets and look at the world through a telescope. His childhood dream faded with time, as did Trixie's presidential aspirations, but it remained there in the corner of his heart.**

**Once, during the months before their first year of high school, the two teenagers slipped away to the California Science Museum, instantly skipping to their space section. Reliving their dreams through the telescopes and shuttles, they whispered excitedly between each other as they moved from exhibit to exhibit.**

**At one point, another student recognized them and called out "I knew you two were dating!" with a sneer on his face. Noah frowned, struggling for a response, but Trixie stepped forward, hands on her hid expression made of sass and shouted back "You're just jealous you don't have a Noah for yourself!" The student turned red due to a mixture of anger and embarrassment, but before he could counter her claim, Trixie dragged Noah away from the scene as quickly as possible without running.**

**They stopped when they hid by Endeavor, Trixie laughing the entire way. "Sorry, Noah. No filter there."**

**"It's fine. I suspect it was more him being jealous of me, though, than you," Noah snorted slightly, slumping against the wall. Trixie was popular at school, or at least well known for being weird and that brought plenty of attention and admirers.**

**"Hardly. But how about we settle in the middle and just say he's lonely."**

**"Deal," Noah agreed.**

**That was how their friendship worked, always settling things in the middle unlike the rest of the group that acted like they had to come on top. Sure, Trixie was the leader, but when it was one on one with Noah, they were equals. That was until Lu came into the picture, then suddenly Noah worried that he no longer mattered to his oldest friend.**

*Less than a Year Later*

Carmen was enraged, his voice booming as he shouted at the other people in the room. Only his right hand man wasn't cowering, sighing dramatically as he steadied a gun on the individual prostrating in front of Carmen. "What was going through your head, you idiot? You bastard? Revealing us to him is the exact _opposite_ of what we want! Yet you dare to bring the wrath of _Satan himself_ to the doorsteps of your brethren?"

"I'm sorry, sir, I only wanted to make him happy. Maybe if I did, he'd... He'd..." the man shivered, not daring to raise his head.

"He'd what, grant you a glimpse of divinity in its purest form? How selfish can you get! You know already only the most devout of the followers can be allowed to even see the divine, now! Yet you dare transgress against us, dare to step forward and try to claim divinity for yourself?" It was partially a lie. The feathers were losing their power and he'd learned far too late that gazing upon them absorbed some of their strength, or brought something tainted to them. Showing what he had to their most recent members and using what he had on Sally had left him with a very tiny amount of light left. Carmen craved for more, but he held himself back. Why couldn't this insignificant insect do the same?

"I'm sorry! I won't do it again!"

"Sorry isn't good enough," Carmen growled. "You must repent."

"Of course," whimpered the coward. "Anything."

"Sir?" his right hand said, drawing Carmen's attention over. "Why don't we take advantage of this situation. Throw Dan off of our trail?"

"You know how to do that?" Carmen asked. The man nodded and Carmen's grin grew. He turned to the sniveling mess before him. "Brilliant. We have a way you can make it up to the group. Perhaps if this works, you'll be granted passage to our Heaven on Earth."

The look of adoration over the statement appeared like a wave over the entire crowd, the three word phrase a hypnotic trigger to the peons. Even the fool at his feet gazed fondly at Carmen, his eyes almost glazed over at the mere concept of Heaven. Well, he'd find out soon enough if he'd receive Heaven, but Carmen suspected the idiot would go along only one path when he died and Hell would welcome him with open arms.

*

Lucifer ignored the odd stares by the customers as he walked out of the break room with cleaning supplies. He asked Christian to cover him behind the counter, explaining that someone had made a mess in the alleyway and vehemently declining all offers to assist. If he had Beatrice out in the alley, cleaning up a Satanic offering? The detective would have his head and carry it off like a trophy to Seattle before he had a chance to blink!

The one person who he did ask to help laughed in his face and instead just watched as her former boss dumped bleach over the blood and bagged the carcass with disgust. He would hire someone normally for this kind of trouble, but keeping his head down--for all the good that had done--was a part of the objective and offerings to the Devil landed distinctly in the category of suspicious. 

"You really have fallen, haven't you?" Maze teased.

"Eons ago, it's old news," Lucifer retorted as he turned his nose up at the smell of bleach. Did this stuff actually work on blood? Perhaps he should ask Miss Lopez before he ruined a perfectly good pair of pants.

"What did you want to talk about, by the way?" Mazikeen inquired, inspecting her fingers. "I mean, I'm guessing you didn't know about the ritual before you invited me out, because if you did I'll have to decline. I prefer to hunt my own prey."

"Hardly, Maze, I know you better than that." Lucifer decided to pull out his phone, typing a quick question about blood clean up to the forensic scientist. "I just wanted to ask you for a favor regarding the situation you were just discussing with the club."

"Oh? And what's that?"

"Well, I guess it's more an expansive question, beyond the potential relocation of one of them." Lucifer began typing a quick response of 'have faith' to Ella's 'should I be worried that you're cleaning up blood?' text.

"Just get on with it, Lucifer."

"Sorry, a bit distracted by the carnage in front of me," the Devil noted. "I want you to watch over them when I can't. Especially Beatrice."

Mazikeen snorted. "You want me to babysit a bunch of teenagers?"

"You were planning on watching Beatrice anyway, what's a few more for you? Or are you saying you can't handle it?" Lucifer raised an eyebrow at his demon then turned back as Lopez responded 'you can't keep using that line' and then proceeded to list simple instructions on removing blood. Cold water, bleach, powdered detergent. Simple enough. Though the explanations were a bore to read through. He'd just toss the stuff down, scrub, and call it good.

"Oh, I can handle it."

"Good, then you won't mind keeping an eye on them!" Lucifer cheered, clapping his hands together as if it was final and then walking back inside.

"I never said that!" Maze snapped, storming after him.

"Too afraid?" the Devil inquired, smirking at the demon. They both knew he got her, though that also meant she may not follow up on his request just in defiance.

The bounty hunter huffed out a breath, tossing up her arms. "Fine. You win. I'll watch the stupid kids and Trixie when they need me to."

"Thank you," Lucifer replied, a sincere note in his voice hidden behind a playful one. He left her in the cafe as he went back to grab more ingredients for the clean up. It was tiring, though. Maybe he'd call a professional anyway once he got the worst of it out.

"Yeah, yeah," Mazikeen grumbled, moving to join the teens again. Lucifer watched her fondly. Really, he couldn't help but appreciate the fact that Maze obeyed him despite having broken off their pact. If there was one thing Lucifer could rely on to be consistent, it was Mazikeen of the Lilim.

*

By the time Linda slid into the stool reserved for her, the other three were already a drink in and all looking miserable. Well, Maze looked normal, but irritated. Ella and Chloe were miserable. Linda _wanted_ to put aside her therapist perspective when hanging out with her friends, but it was her idea and she didn't want the girls having anything less than the best time of their lives. Sighing, she ordered something fruity and alcoholic, with every intention of nursing it the rest of the night. 

"What's on your minds?" Linda asked while waiting for her drink. Maze rolled her eyes and Ella shook her head, giving the group a weak smile.

"Sorry, I don't mean to be down. This case just has me beat. But this isn't about me! This is a celebration for Chloe! To not dying and to returning to work!" Ella raised her glass in a toast when Linda's arrived but instead of joining her Chloe sighed.

"Lucifer's back."

Linda nearly dropped her glass, gasping at the statement and looking at Maze and then Chloe. "You're sure? Since when?"

"Apparently two months ago."

"Almost three," Maze agreed. "Sent Amenadiel to drag his ass back. Kind of."

"Three months?" Linda repeated, eyes wide. Why did Maze send Amenadiel after Lucifer?  
Did that mean Amenadiel was back, too? Why didn't Maze tell her?

Ella shifted uneasily in the middle. "Uh, yeah, that's awfully surprising, huh? Man, who would have thought that?"

"Ella, I like you," Maze drawled, tipping her glass at the scientist. "Never play poker. Actually, do, but only against me."

"That obvious?" Ella mumbled, glancing at Chloe's suspicious glare and Linda's saucer wide eyes.

"You knew?" Chloe questioned.

"For... A week? Yeah, I stumbled upon him on accident. He uh... He fainted on me."

"He _whatthat_ odd. A first, but not unexpected?"

The therapist sat quietly for a few moments, listening as Maze and Ella exchanged information, Chloe adding tiny bits of what she learned through deduction. Something was off, badly enough that even Maze noticed. They'd assumed he'd been in Hell this entire time; did something happen there to upset him? She needed to see him, know that her friend--and client--was okay.

"But that's not even the most dramatic news of the day," Maze said, interrupting Linda's thoughts. Turning a stony gaze to the detective, the hunter demanded "When were you going to tell us you were moving states?"

"What?" Ella said. "No way! You can't break the tribe!"

"Hey, it just... It made sense at the time. Makes sense." Chloe groaned, burying her head in her hands and clearly not wanting to have this discussion. Remembering that this was supposed to be a happier occasion, Linda waved a hand over the group.

"We can talk about that later, tonight is celebrations. Remember? To Chloe's health and occupation, and to Lucifer's return!"

Maze grted, but obligingly raised her glass. "Fine, but know that I won't let you leave, Decker," the demon threatened

Linda groaned herself, drinking half her cocktail in one go. She had a long few days ahead of her, didn't she?

*

Having a weekend with Lucifer had been more fun than Trixie expected. Of course she'd expected the usual cafe time, extended due to her being there the entire day rather than just a few hours. She _hadn't_ expected him shuffling her off to the break room or upstairs--her choice--to work on school work and "give him a break from teenage drama." More than that, though, she hadn't expected him to take her out at night for a nice dinner. It hadn't been terribly fancy, but a late night trip to a small restaurant where the two exchanged jokes and stories, like how they did early morning. Lucifer had so many stories to present, from some hilarious adventures in Hell to intriguing bits of history.

"You and my history teacher would probably get along," Trixie had noted at one point, laughing at a particularly funny point about living in the Dust Bowl. The funniest part was Lucifer's face at how inconvenienced he'd been.

Trixie in turn talked more about her time away, the time Ella talked someone down from shooting their prisoner, when Linda and Maze accidentally stumbled upon a woman giving birth in a parking lot and how Linda had to stop Maze from terrifying the mother to be, and how Dan once ended up fostering five cats for a weekend while their mother was missing. Lucifer's favorites, of course, were the stories of heroism of Trixie's mom over the years, though he tried to feign indifference. There was something about the quirk of his smile and the nervous fidgeting that told another story, and Trixie remembered a time when she swore they would end up together. Why had it gone so far south?

The next morning, while Trixie was eating scrambled eggs and the before-church crowd shuffled in their zombie-like state, the teen informed Lucifer she was returning that evening, rather than the following morning like originally planned. He'd understood, in return offering to have Maze take her home, which Trixie declined. Then, she took a steadying breath.

"Mom knows you're here," she said, watching the Devil carefully. He froze, dark eyes haunted for a second before he shook himself out of it and shrugged. The slight shaking to his body was the only tell that he wasn't quite okay, that and the fact he was now very interested in the machines and nothing else.

"That doesn't surprise me. Your mother was always terribly clever. Once everyone started showing up here, I should've expected her to figure things out. So, when should I expect her to come banging on my door and demanding I leave you alone?" His tone was bitter, but heavily laced with fear.

"I asked Mom not to show up, but I don't know how long she'll stay away. If she decides she needs to show up..."

"Your mother will listen to no one else and come here regardless." Lucifer nodded, leaning on the counter and closing his eyes. Quietly he added "thank you, spawn, for warning me in advanced."

"It's the least I could do. I'll keep her away as long as possible though. I promise."

Lucifer locked his eyes with her suddenly and nodded. A soft smile formed on his face as he responded. "You always do your best to help everyone. I suppose, the least I can do is help you with your desires." He didn't elaborate, turning back to the machine and customers and avoiding the subject entirely until she went home.

*

Chloe hated the headache she had all day, wondering why she always agreed to go out with the rest of the girls. She'd avoided talking about the move for the most part, though that'd largely been interference with Linda and Ella since Maze kept bringing it up, with a snide glare. Really, wasn't Maze supposed to be on her side too? Surely she understood, and the demon's roots were about as grounded as a bird's.

As the hours went on, she went through the process of regretting drinking. The small coffee she made caused a small smile to grow as she thought of a night where she similarly had regrets of drinking. Surprisingly, the responsible one hadn't been her that night. In fact, a majority of the time she'd stopped acting mature, slipping on one of the few incidents into childish behavior, he'd been the one to cover her back.

No! This was precisely why she had to go. To make a clean break.

Except, that was when she thought he wasn't here. At least at first, then because it was clear he didn't want to see her.

Then he apparently fainted. Worry and, honestly, curiosity plagued the detective. What could make the Devil faint? Certainly not Ella. Harmless, odd, friendly Ella.

The sound of her phone distracted her and she picked up the device, expecting it to be a message from Trixie declaring she was on her way home. Instead, the first word alone, from an unknown number, made her nearly drop her phone in surprise. She stared at the text for several minutes before finally actually reading it.

"Detective," the message began. "I understand you have been made aware of my presence in Los Angeles, again. I am informing you that I have sent your daughter home. If she is not back in thirty minutes, contact Mazikeen.

"I am also asking you for a favor. A deal, to be exchanged for whatever you desire, provided it doesn't break any other deals I've made. I'll stay out of your life; I'll kick the spawn out; return to Hell as soon as I can. Whatever you wish. If you agree to this, then you must let Beatrice stay in LA. It is the one desire I can offer to her, the one deal I can make to help amend the damage I've done.

I don't intend to interfere with you and the life you've created since our unfortunate separation, but Beatrice has become important to me in ways I cannot describe. Her happiness is my utmost priority, even if I believe she's a bit misguided. Know that I do not intend harm towards her, either, Devil or no. I will protect her with my life, as I would yours.

Sincerely yours,  
Lucifer Morningstar"

It was the most thoughtful text she had ever seen from him. No jokes, no emojis, just sincerity. And it terrified her on two levels. One was the question of what was wrong, which piggybacked on Ella and Maze's statements over his well being. The other was how badly she wanted to run to him at that moment, despite years of claiming she was beyond him and the relationship that never was. She wanted to run to him and hug him and shake him in frustration. Just be with him and let him know he was fine as he was, that she wasn't scared.

Instead, she closed her phone and simply waited for Trixie to return.


	15. A Ghost?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry this is a day late! I had a bit of an order of operations mishap, where the logical timeline didn't fit with what I was typing so I had to move half of the chapter to the next. That means half of hte next chapter is already written, though (with some editing to fit what happened in this chapter) AND to make it up to you guys I will be posting it in less than twenty four hours! Sorry for the delay and thank you all for your kind words and sticking with me fudging up the schedule!

**The scene was one of the worst Azrael had seen this year, as far as car accidents went. Certainly not the worst—that went to the semi-truck running over a stopped car a couple months back—but definitely in the top ten. The angel walked delicately over the wreckage, feeling the heat from the flames but not the pain. Four cars and a bike may not be the biggest number either, but two cars were so damaged that they weren't recognizable. And that street lamp was done for, too. The souls passing on could be felt, six drifting to Heaven and Hell. The cyclist miraculously survived, though he was groaning in pain against the cement blockade and his foot was twisted at a wrong angle. One of the drivers was crawling out of their vehicle, but their passenger was soon to make a trip up north. All was accounted for. Time for Azrael to move on.**

**Except... one soul was hanging on from one of the cars, one where the driver and passenger had already passed. Groaning slightly at the inconvenience, Azrael trudged to the mess, kneeling down before the car, upside down due to the collision. She heard the whimpered cry of a child and immediately felt sympathetic. Guiding children remained the hardest task for the angel, knowing their life ended far too early and imagining what they could have been.**

**“Come now, let's get you out of there and somewhere safe and warm,” she beckoned to the door, sliding it open carefully. The police had arrived, but wouldn't notice her interference if she played it smart. It wasn't necessary for a soul to pass, but when they were stuck hanging on, it was usually due to not realizing they were dead.**

**Sniffling was the response Azrael received as a child crawled out of the door, wiping her eyes and coughing from the smoke. She turned dark eyes to the angel and finished pulling herself out. Then, she smiled, a bright grin only slightly dampened from fear and sorrow over the incident she'd just faced. “Thank you, Miss,” the girl said, wiping her face again before turning back to the wreck.**

**Azrael pulled the child away from the car, encircling her arms about the small frame and effectively blocking her view. The warmth pressing against her was a surprise and a slight singing feeling settle din her stomach as the angel realized her mistake. This child was not dead.**

**Drat.**

**“What's your name?” the kid asked, clinging tightly to the angel, like she was a lifeline. The irony was not lost on the Angel of death.**

**Azrael frowned at the girl, warm and bright despite the disaster about her. Her mouth moved before her brain fully caught up. “Rae-Rae,” she said, her nickname brighter than her actual name.**

**“Rae-Rae,” the girl repeated, sounding it out and smiling again. “I'm Ella. Thank you for saving me, Rae-Rae.”**

**The police arriving distracted the child enough for Rae-Rae to disappear, but even if Ella forgot her, Azrael couldn't quite shake off that smile, that brightness in an otherwise bleak situation. Like a moth to a flame, she found herself pulled back again and again. When it turned out Ella remembered her, the draw was even stronger.**

**As Ella grew up, they became closer, exchanging stories of their family—especially their brothers. Lu, Uri, Mike, and Manny were funny anecdotes for the young girl and fond recollections for the angel. Suddenly, Azrael longed to see her wayward brother once more. It'd been too long. Far too long. It'd be too awkward to show up at his doorstep, but perhaps if she guided her favorite human, her best friend then she'd find her chance to make up with him.**

*Many Years Later *

Lucifer's hands were shaking. Holed up in his bedroom, pressing his back against the mattress, he fumbled over the message enough times that he was positive the spawn would be home before he managed to figure out exactly what he wanted to say. All of it seemed asinine, especially his anxiety of it. Why couldn't he just talk to her? She knew he was there and this was about as indirect of communication as he could get. They spoke fine in the dream they'd shared, but apparently a text was too damn much.

He stood up abruptly, message half finished, and began pacing the room before picking up a bottle and downing it as quickly as possible. Half-drunk, he grabbed the device again and continued to type, deleted half of what he added and then downed another bottle before finishing it. Finally, the devil pressed the send button before he could take it all back. And immediately regretted it. Sincerely yours? Really?

Groaning, Lucifer stormed downstairs to get fresh air. It was late, but the sun hadn't quite set as spring was in full swing. Stumbling into the alleyway, he tapped out a cigarette and lit it up. A few breaths in, however, the scent of blood filled his nose once more.

At his feet was another 'sacrifice'. Outlining another pentagram was another creature. This time there was no other message along with it.

Rubbing his face tiredly, Lucifer went back inside to grab cleaning supplies, both disgusted at the scene and thankful for the distraction.

*

Trixie opened the door to her father's apartment slowly, trying to make as little noise as possible. She let her backpack drift off of one shoulder and carefully placed it on the ground, secretly hoping she could delay the conversation with her mother. She'd thought of what she wanted to say, but wasn't sure how convincing it would be. As Lucifer said, her mother was clever and stubborn. But so was Trixie.

“Hey Monkey,” Chloe called from the dining room table, a small smile on her face. Somehow, her mother appeared guarded, as if hiding an emotion she didn't want her daughter to know.

Trixie walked over and climbed into the opposite seat, tilting her head in curiosity. “Hi Mom. What's up?”

“Hm? We decided we were going to talk when you got back, didn't we?”

“Yeah, we did but... never mind,” Trixie huffed and then accepted the glass of water her mother pushed towards her. 

“So, I understand you don't want to move, Trixie.” Chloe's smile turned soft as she spoke. “I even think I understand a part of why, but why don't you tell me.”

Right, her mother knew Lucifer was here and that Trixie had stayed at his place over her friend's the past two nights. Trixie shifted uneasily, having spent better than two months keeping him a secret and still unsure what else she could say. The healing and wings were supposed to be a separate secret, right? So what could she say? She owed him, but more than that...

“He needs me,” Trixie started, clenching her hands tighter around the glass. “Lucifer is...” Broken. Damaged. Alone. “Hurting and he needs someone by his side.”

“And that someone has to be you?” Chloe's tone suggested she was curious, fortunately, not denying her daughter outright.

“Well, no, there are others. Amenadiel, Christian, Maze,” Trixie mumbled. She frowned and then shook her head harshly. “But I'm the closest one to him, right now. He... he's built his life around making sure to be with me, making sure I can talk to him without any problems.” That was obvious, at least, from the fact he made a cafe instead of a bar and placed himself not just close to her school but on the path she took towards home, or as close as he could. He'd accepted her friends readily and beckoned her in with free drinks and breakfast. Not once had he turned her away, and only with her did he seem capable of dropping that pained and lonely expression.

Taking a deep breath, she continued. “You raised me to help others, and here is someone who needs help more than anyone else. Someone I care about, someone _you_ care about, Mom. Don't... don't take that away from him, from us.” Tears started to build up, but she didn't notice them until her mother wiped one away from her cheek.

“Trixie, don't you think that that's precisely why I want you away from him? Lucifer's never been the best role model,” Chloe explained.

“He's doing better! I wasn't joking when I said he kept me out of trouble. He even made me do my homework! And we bring out club there when we are kicked out of the class. Lucifer's at least trying,” Trixie protested.

“But it sounds like he's also becoming dependent on you, Trixie.” The concerned tone that painted her mother's words had Trixie hesitate before she shook her head again.

“At first, maybe? But now he has more than just me. S-sure I'm the first person, but we are all a team. Like... like you guys were at work! You and Lucifer were partners, right? But that didn't mean you couldn't work alone. And Dad helped. And so did Maze and the rest of the police force.”

Chloe remained silent for a while, so Trixie pushed on, desperate to convince her mother. “At least an extension. To the end of summer.” She could convince Lucifer to meet and change Chloe's mind by then, Trixie was sure of it. Or at least hopeful. “Let me finish summer here before we leave, create real memories with everyone. And let everyone else create memories with you?” After all, her mother and father would be leaving too and surely their friends didn't want them to go.

Sighing heavily, Chloe nodded. “Fine. You win, Monkey. But I'll have some conditions for this, okay?”

Trixie beamed and nodded rapidly, hope surging in her chest as she leaped to her feet and ran around, hugging her mother tightly. “Thank you, Mom! Thank you!” She turned to run to her room, glancing back only once to catch her mother looking fondly at her phone. Odd, but not important. She had to tell the club—Devil included—the good news.

*

The smell of salt was dimmed by re-imagining, Chloe knew it just as surely as she knew the wind was never actually this cold during the day. The sand beneath her feet felt nice and she longed to just collapse on it and gaze at the sun. Instead, she waited, wondering what mixture of memories would be summoned this time.

“A beach, Detective? Really, I thought you had more creativity than that,” the British accent she expected called out from behind her. Chloe turned to greet at the man who stepped up beside her, his dark gaze cast over the ocean. A gentle, nostalgic smile played on his lips as he studied the scene before him. “I suppose it is a good place, though. Where we first kissed, no?”

“Oh yes, I remember _that_ day. With, what, eighty of your exes?” Chloe didn't actually remember the exes, only the vague interviews. The kiss, the speech, and Lucifer's sincerity, though? That was vivid in her recollection.

“Ah, them. Just a drop in the vast sea of people I copulated with. Not unimportant, but certainly not the most important people in my life.” His brown eyes stayed forward, refusing to move down onto the detective next to him. It felt a little dismissive, but Chloe didn't say anything, nudging him slightly in the side.

“Who are the most important people, then?”

Lucifer hummed briefly then laughed, the sound bitter at first before fading the genuine mirth. “Oddly, no one I've slept with, Detective. Except Maze and Linda, but one of those doesn't count as a person, hm?”

“Linda is awfully inhumane,” Chloe teased. “Always looking into your head without you realizing it.”

“Indeed! Insightful and infuriating at the same time, our Doctor Martin!” Lucifer chuckled finally casting his eyes to her before immediately turning it away. 

“Am I on the list?” the detective asked, knowing the answer but still wanting to hear it. Why did she torture herself so? The Devil didn't want to see her, though, so maybe she was wrong.

Speaking so softly that the waves nearly covered his response, Lucifer said “the very top, Detective.” Then, he cleared his throat and shrugged, mouth quirking up in an awkward grin. “The Spawn is a close second, though. She's grown into a nice young lady.”

“Yet, she's still the Spawn,” Chloe muttered, rolling her eyes. Of course, why would she be anything else? She'd barely heard Lucifer use her real name, never her nickname, and certainly this dream version of Lucifer wouldn't be able to utter the latter. Chloe wasn't that imaginative.

“Always,” Lucifer replied, grin spreading wide. “Just as you're the Detective and your ex is the Douche. Such titles cannot be revoked so easily.”

Chloe snorted, rolling her eyes again and the gesture earning another twitch of a smile as he watched her from the corner of his eye. She studied him carefully, wondering slightly how she managed to keep his image so sharp all these years. Hopeless.

Were his hands shaking? In fact, was he shaking entirely?

Chloe frowned, lifting her blue eyes up to brown. “Lucifer, is everything okay?”

“About as fine as expected.” A pause before he asked “has Beatrice talked with you yet, then?”

“Yes?”

“And your conclusion?”

“We agreed to delay the transfer until the end of summer,” Chloe said, brow furrowing in confusion. “But to be honest, I think if I cancel this they won't so readily accept us trying to move again. As it was, we were taking advantage of my condition to pull strings.”

“Hm. Well in that case I...” Lucifer nervously adjusted his sleeves, shifting in the sand so that he was facing entirely away from her. “Then, I will see the urchin around. I'm... glad.”

*

Another death. Early June had arrived and Chloe was blessedly back, but even with the four of them working tirelessly on the case, they were coming up blank. Worse, some evidence had gone missing with the most recent death before Ella had a chance to process it. Whatever intern lost it was going to get a piece of her mind!

Four deaths total, almost entirely the same MO. The only difference was between the first and the rest, where there was no drugs involved in Sally Monroe's death but definitely drugs involved in the other three. Why the change? Was there a change or was there just a copy cat? Or was it all coincidence? Doubtful. The only connection they all had was with the weird club Carmen ran—Heaven on Earth.

Ella wanted to pursue the club harder, but had a hard time putting to words “my ghost friend said Sally mentioned it after death.” Sure, they'd obviously followed up but even then the connections with the club were random. Sally had left, for one, and the third death was from an individual who only showed up once. And Carmen's charity members were so scattered that it was hard to know who was actually part of it and who just showed up for some benefits that came from associating with a charity.

It was only early afternoon, but Ella felt exhausted. Deciding she needed a break from the case, and another chance to reconnect with her wayward ex-coworker, Ella found herself approaching the Redeye Roast with a slight spring in her step. Of course, she was met outside the cafe by the owner himself, who held a garbage bag a slight distance away from himself as he dropped it into a outdoor trashcan.

“Hey, Lucifer! Working hard or hardly working, eh?” Ella joshed, grinning at the man who groaned slightly before giving her a brief smile. His eye met hers for a second before looking away, but Ella took that as a sign for improvement.

“Miss Lopez. Lovely seeing you this afternoon. Did I ever properly thank you for teaching me how to clean up blood? It's been extremely helpful these past few months.” Lucifer straightened his shirt a bit as he put the lid back on the garbage and gestured for her to follow back inside.

“It has?” Ella frowned. She still had no idea why he needed the information.

“Indeed.” Lucifer hummed slightly, looking towards the alley. “I think this is the third or fourth time, but someone has a sick sense of humor or the _very_ wrong impression of me. Nevertheless, I've become quite adept at taking care of messes like that. Not that it's a skill I care for, on Earth at least.”

Ella snorted. “Yeah, I'm surprised you don't know how already, with you 'working in Hell',” she retorted and Lucifer raised an eyebrow at her, smirk on his face.

“Why, darling, would I clean up such a mess myself? I'm a king there. There's plenty of others to take care of that disaster. Squee for example.”

“Of course, my mistake,” Ella said. She started to inquire about this 'Squee' but stopped when she spotted Amenadiel sitting at a table and talking to someone. Someone he shouldn't be able to talk to. The woman had her back to Ella, but that hairstyle, that laugh, something Ella had known since she was a little girl but was also the _only_ one to know. Someone who was a _ghost._

She barely heard Lucifer say “Oh no.” But she did, and a quick glance confirmed he was staring at his brother and someone who _should_ be invisible as well.

“Rae-Rae?” she called, stepping forward. If it was physically possible to jump out of one's skin, the ghost would have done that right then.

Wide eyes behind coke-bottle glasses greeting Ella. “Uh, hi, Ella,” Rae-Rae replied, waving weakly. Ella opened her mouth to ask an obvious, but necessary question, except Amenadiel interrupted, confirming what she was seeing in a way.

“You two know each other?” Amenadiel questioned, looking between the two of them.

“In a way...” Rae-Rae mumbled, suddenly desperately searching for an escape.

“Yes. Yes we do,” Ella confirmed. “How do you two know each other? No, wait, Lucifer, you answer.” Ella turned to the cafe owner who was making his way to the counter as if to avoid the conversation entirely.

“Hm? Miss Lopez? We encountered each other a few years ago. She visited my penthouse some time after that psychiatrist was murdered. You know, the one where Daniel ended up on a roller coaster?”

That both made a lot of sense and didn't add up. “You can see ghosts?” Lucifer scoffed at that statement but didn't answer. “Lucifer. You can see ghosts?”

“No, but I can,” Rae-Rae answered, bringing attention back to her. Behind her, Amenadiel somehow became more and more confused. 

“What do you mean you can see ghosts?” Ella inquired.

“Well, not really ghosts. Souls? Spirits? You know, people who have died but not gone to whatever afterlife they're destined for?” Rae-Rae shifted uneasily.

“But you are a ghost, aren't you?”

“What?” Amenadiel jolted at that and Ella looked at the man who seemed more lost than even her. Actually, Lucifer may not have been the best person to ask, now that she thought about it. His whole 'I don't lie” bit was not always synonymous with 'telling the truth'. Ella took in the entire cafe for a few moments, a few customers watching them and others trying to politely keep to themselves. Rae-Rae and Lucifer seemed nervous, but not at all confused by the situation. They knew. They knew something very important.

The back of Ella's brain itched, as if trying to deny something right in front of her, something obvious but yet impossible. Turning back to Amenadiel, she felt a bit of relief as she asked him “How do you and Rae-Rae know each other, Amenadiel?”

A frown formed on the larger man's face. Rae-Rae sat completely still and Lucifer leaned against the counter with the illusion of relaxation. Amenadiel turned back to Ella, though, and realized if he wanted answers then he needed to be honest to Ella. They were equals in this situation. “She's my sister, Ella.”

“Your... sister. Is this true?” Ella directed the question to both Rae-Rae and Lucifer, but it was the latter who answered.

“Yes,” he sighed, moving behind the counter now and starting to nervously clean the machines. “Azrael—Rae-Rae as you call her—is our younger sister.”

“But... she's a ghost.”

“No. No she is not,” Lucifer replied. Rae-Rae opened her mouth to protest but Lucifer shot a glare at her. “You're not, Azrael. This isn't a conversation to have here, though. So, you can either take it upstairs or wait until the help comes and _then_ take it upstairs.” Lucifer frowned at the counter, clearly conflicted over which option was better.

“A ghost?” Amenadiel gasped, somewhere between a laugh and genuine horror.

Ella looked between them and then to Rae-Rae, that part of her brain not in denial providing a brief reminder of just where she heard the name 'Azrael' from before. Of course, Amenadiel and Lucifer having another sibling with the name of an angel wouldn't be out of the ordinary for them. But Ella had experiences, years of them, where Rae-Rae was there and _no one else could see her_. A ghost. She said she was a ghost, but wasn't there another explanation?

She wasn't sure when she was ushered up to Lucifer's room, but she did acknowledge the cold drink of water pressed into her hands by Lucifer as he spoke soothingly to her, the directions almost sounding mechanical and like a mantra.

“Deep breaths, Miss Lopez. Breathe in slowly. Breath out slowly,” the man whispered in her ear as he carefully rubbed her back.

“Is she okay?” Rae-Rae asked. “I really didn't mean for this to happen.”

“I know, Azrael. You've made it clear you're the master at missed chances,” Lucifer grumbled.

“A ghost?” Amenadiel repeated. “You told her you were a ghost?”

“Well it made sense at the time!” Azrael hissed.

Ella focused on the group, taking each one in slowly as they argued between themselves. In a weird way it reminded Ella of her brothers and the arguments she got into with them. She used to talk to Azrael about them all the time. And in turn...

“Mike. Uri... Oh God,” Ella said, eyes widening in realization. “Lu and Manny are Lucifer and Amenadiel aren't they?”

“Manny?” Lucifer laughed at that, falling back on the bed with a full belly laugh. “Manny! That is wonderful! I shall have to remember that!”

One piece of the puzzle slotted in with the rest. Ella lost herself to her thoughts again as she considered another piece. Rae-Rae wasn't young, but she also wasn't old enough for her to not appear to have aged in _twenty years_ even if she could somehow explain her invisibility away. Neither had Amenadiel or Lucifer, but she'd only known them for eight years so it was more possible for them to have just not visibly changed.

_I'm the Devil_. Lucifer's claim. One that, at one point, others around him stopped denying. Either because they'd just accepted it as a quirk of his or because...

The last piece of the puzzle slid into place, forming a complete picture. “You're all angels. All three of you. Oh God. Oh _GOD_.” The three before her had mixed expressions as Ella's eyes remained wide. Rae-Rae was guilty; Amenadiel was a bit proud; and Lucifer was... scared. Why...?

As if only by speaking them could she reach her conclusion, Ella practically screamed “You're the _Devil_!”


	16. Victor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I shall be responding to your comments ASAP! I wanted to post this first, but I need a nap as well. So! When I get up! Thank you all for commenting too and there's some parts I really want to respond to!
> 
> Also, as a warning since this is so soon after my last update, if you don't remember a flashback from Azrael's perspective (second one, this one back when she first met Ella) then go back a chapter! And yes, another chapter will be up again tomorrow (Sunday!)

**As Chloe stepped into the office, she knew immediately why the new lieutenant—one Daniel Thompson—had called for her. Another officer stood in parade rest by the desk, though he betrayed the stiff posture by the nervous smile he offered when she appeared. The lieutenant waved for both of them to sit, though the officer didn't oblige until Chloe sat first.**

**“Detective Decker,” the lieutenant greeted. He was an older man than Pierce had been—well, no, but older than Pierce had presented himself—and thus far proved to be a fan of the spirit of the law, not the letter. Ella warmed up to him instantly, as had Dan when he'd returned from leave, but Chloe was hesitant. She'd been betrayed too often that it was hard to let anyone in so quickly.**

**Especially the man in the chair next to her, though she supposed she could pretend for now.**

**“This is Officer Michael Trent. Trent, this is Detective Chloe Decker,” the lieutenant said, gesturing to each person as he spoke, as if the people would forget their own name.**

**“I've heard of your work, Detective. It's a pleasure to meet you,” Officer Trent said and Chloe frowned instinctively.**

**“Decker,” she corrected.**

**“I'm sorry?”**

**“Call me Decker. Or Detective Decker. Or, hell, Chloe, but don't call me Detective. I mean, I'm not the only detective around here so it would seem... wrong,” Chloe explained. Wrong for different reasons, but wrong nevertheless.**

**“Ah, sorry. It's a pleasure to meet you, Decker.” Trent laughed lightly and Chloe eased a bit, nodding in return. She still wasn't happy with the situation, but at least the man didn't seem like an ass.**

**“Detective Decker, Officer Trent, you two are to be partners for the time being,” Lieutenant Thompson stated. “For now, Officer Trent will actually be working with both you and Detective Espinoza whenever you guys need him until we can get another person to fill the extra space.”**

**Chloe sighed internally. “All due respect, sir, I don't need a partner. My success rate--”**

**“Is fantastic, yes, I've seen it. Even before and after this “Mr. Morningstar” assisted you on cases you were an exceptional officer. But there's a phrase that I grew up with, Decker: 'there's safety in numbers.'” The lieutenant leveled a glare at the woman, a stiff frown on his face. “You'd do well to remember it. Now, if you have any actual complaints, I'll hear you out. Otherwise, you two are dismissed. I'll inform Espinoza of the update myself when he comes in.”**

**Both stood together, giving brief good-byes as they left the room. Intending to make a beeline for her desk, Chloe only stopped when Trent called after her. “Decker, hey, I don't want to get in your way, but this is my chance to be promoted. I'm sorry for stepping on your feet in the meantime.”**

**Decker studied Trent for a few moments. He was young, just a year or two younger than when she'd made detective. He stood confidently but his expressions completely gave away his true feelings, making him appear like child caught having eaten all the chocolate cake. It was endearing, but Chloe couldn't help but wish he was another person. Someone else with child-like behavior but a grand amount of charm behind all of that.**

**She didn't need him, but she also didn't need to hinder his progress. Nodding again she waved for him to follow her. “There's a case downtown. I'll drive.”**

**As time went on, it didn't occur to him that he never wound up getting promoted. In fact, he didn't even bring it up beyond their first meeting. Instead, he stuck around her and Daniel without a complaint.**

* Six Years Later *

Chloe tapped her pen on her desk, glad to be back in the rhythm of work but annoyed by their current case. Both Dan and her had been placed on a serial killer case, and told to make it top priority. Not that she didn't understand, but with no results, she really wanted to try another avenue. Perhaps help another case until she had some breakthrough. Trent and Dan were great, but they rarely had a vastly different perspective than hers.

No! She'd long gotten over comparing either of them to her partner and just because he was back didn't mean things would be the same. In fact, they were somehow far more different than before. She'd attempted to reach him via texting, but each time she got a brief message that basically ended the conversation. Then he'd politely asked her to stop contacting him unless it was important. What on earth did she do wrong? Recently, at least.

“Carmen Grant is here, Decker,” Trent beckoned, pulling Chloe out of her thoughts as she was just starting another spiral.

Finally. Dan and Trent had had a chance to interview him back when the case first started, but Chloe wanted to ask a few questions herself. She stood up quickly and approached the room the man was locked in.

Carmen Grant was familiar, though it had to have been from a while ago because something was off about him. For one, he appeared far happier than before and, of course, older, but she wasn't quite sure as she didn't exactly remember where she knew him from either. He'd never been suspected of murder, that she knew, or been witness to a crime, but she'd definitely seen him before. It was in his voice, the grand way he spoke in a mixture of gospel and authority.

“Detective Decker, what a wonderful opportunity it is that we should meet at last,” Carmen said, smiling affably at the detective as Trent closed the door behind him.

“I'm sorry, that sounds a lot like you expected to meet me,” Chloe ventured.

“Of course, though I'll admit not quite like this. That Trixie of yours is a delight in the classroom.” The smile spread and he offered a hand. “I'm a substitute teacher at her school right now, and the adviser for her little club. The Devil's Advocate Club.”

Chloe's eyebrows shot up at the name of the club and she had to stifle a laugh, straining to keep a professional face. Her daughter. That sounded exactly like the kind of name she'd come up with, in light of recent events. “Her study group is called the Devil's Advocate Club.”

“Yes. I believe the concept is tempting people to study by offering fun after success is shown. Or progress.”

That was awfully charming. Not at all what the name implied, but better than what it could have been. Chloe shifted slightly, realizing they weren't on track. So much for professionalism. “Last time you were called in we talked of your charity organization. Since then, three more deaths were confirmed, each similar to Miss Monroe's death and each connected in one way to your organization.”

“Yes, I have heard. It is incredibly unfortunate.”

“Yet, you have no leads, no ideas how this could happen or what might motivate someone to do this? For a group called 'Heaven on Earth', there isn't any religious implication that may lead someone to go on a righteous killing spree?” Chloe winced. That kind of questioning wasn't her usual method, going with serious implications over resolute factual questions. Still, Carmen seemed to consider her words carefully.

“We're not really that kind of 'religious' necessarily, Detective Decker. That being said, I do actually think someone fits a bit of your description. A member of our group—Victor—has been acting... odd the past few months. He's been claiming he's seen the 'Devil' and such.” Carmen laughed. “Such audacity. Even if the Devil roamed the Earth, I doubt Victor would be the one to discover it. Still, I could reach out to him if you wish.”

It was something, even if the Devil line disturbed Chloe. “Please do.”

“I'll ask him to come in tonight, or let you know if I know where to find him.”

It felt a bit too out of the blue, a bit too sudden, but Chloe didn't have the luxury of not following the lead. She and Trent left the room, moving to her desk as Carmen was escorted out. Her daughter's substitute teacher and their one source of information. And somehow familiar to her.

“What's your opinion of him?” Chloe asked the officer beside her.

“Carmen? I think he's a good man. Someone who believes he did a lot of wrong and is trying to turn over a new leaf.” Trent watched her more than the man in question.

“Okay, but why?”

“I couldn't tell you, but judging by the name of his group I'd assume it was something to do with the God or something similar.”

Right. Heaven on Earth. Ella had been incredibly attached to the name as well, claiming to have some sort of bad feeling about it. Shame she wasn't available, having called in an hour ago saying she wasn't coming back to work. Family emergency. Her family being in Detroit, Chloe hoped it wouldn't be for too long. She could really use Ella since she was the last person Chloe had who saw things from an entirely new perspective.

*

Something was definitely wrong with Lucifer. First, he ushered Ella up the steps the moment Christian apparently arrived, and now he was downstairs playing very depressing tunes on his piano without his entourage that he'd led up. Amenadiel and Azrael walked down the stairs a bit later, but neither seemed to be in a talking mood. In fact, the Angel of Death appeared to have been crying while leaning on her older brother. Trixie couldn't bring herself to ask her, but she wished she had instead of being left blowing bubbles into her tea.

“You think someone broke up with Lu?” Noah questioned, sounding a bit too eager at the statement. Sarahs' expression matched his eagerness and Trixie rolled her eyes at the two of them.

“I don't think so. No offense to Lu but he doesn't seem to be the type to commit,” Maryann mumbled, waving one hand in his direction. “Besides, wasn't that his sister or something who just left? Maybe she was the one who was broken up with and he's just a sympathetic brother.”

“Still hard to believe their siblings,” Esther said quietly.

“They're probably like Jesus and Christian, siblings in the sense they're like family but not literally blood,” Maryann noted.

“It's none of our business, though!” Trixie interjected. “We came here to plan! And study! For the DAC of course!”

“Right!” Jesus agreed, as happy to move off the topic as Trixie, though the other four were watching Lucifer for a few moments longer before they joined the transition. “Our plans for the summer! Mr. Grant has already offered to let us use his cabin for a week of camping. We just need to decide the week and what activities we want to do then.”

“Hardly counts as camping when we're in a building with electricity and beds,” Trixie said, pouting slightly. That argument had come and gone, though. She'd been outnumbered five to two, with only Christian on her side when it came to taking Mr. Grant up on his offer. Not that she didn't appreciate it, but Trixie had a clear image of what camping was like.

“And meals,” Esther added.

“And meals,” Jesus confirmed. “So let's start with that. Obviously hotdogs and s'mores are a must. Plus sweet potatoes or roasted corn. Things we can cook on a skewer or throw in the fire and fish out later.”

“Oh fish! Fish sounds great! I know the best ways to get a bunch of salmon if a river is near the cabin!” Maryann contributed.

The teens discussed snacks and meals until the music suddenly stopped and a slight sniffle was heard over the silence. Trixie and the rest turned to see Ella standing at the bottom of the steps, rubbing her eyes. Lucifer stared at her in dismay, pain visible and his hand shaking over the keys. “Miss Lopez...” he began. Ella hiccuped and shook her head.

“Not right now L—not right now. It's too much,” Ella whispered. Lucifer nodded in understanding, though his expression said anything but. His hands clenched into fists, the knuckles white as he turned to stare blankly at the piano. The scientist hurried out of the cafe, head bowed to avoid the eyes that followed her.

Every part of Trixie wanted to run to Lucifer, knowing he was on the verge of another breakdown. However, something clicked in Trixie's head about what happened. So, instead, she excused herself from the group and ran after Ella. The woman hadn't gone far, only a block before she propped herself again a lamp post and gazed upwards.

“Ella?” Trixie called out, walking up slowly. Ella turned a wet smile to Trixie.

“Oh, Trix, didn't see you there. Sorry, just had a long day. Nothing to worry about,” Ella replied, wiping her eyes once and then letting her smile grow bigger. “See? All good.”

“I don't think it is,” Trixie responded, stepping closer. “I think something Rae and Lu did is really bothering you.”

“Not really. At least, nothing L... nothing he did. Rae-Rae... I was _lied_ to for years.” Ella sniffed again. “And I think that's what hurts the most. But it's... it's just everything. I'll be fine though, so you can relax Trixie. Thank you for worrying about me, though.”

“You can talk about it, you know. I think it'll help you get through it all.”

“Sure, but who could I talk to? Not Rae-Rae that's for sure and this doesn't seem like Tribe-convo material.”

Trixie blinked, tilting her head slightly as Lucifer often did when he was trying to push some concept. “You don't think that they don't know exactly what you're going through?” Maze obviously did, and Lucifer had let it drop that Linda knew as well. “Lucifer's best friend before he worked with you guys and his therapist? I mean, it's worth a try to talk to them, right?”

Ella blinked owlishly at the teen and hiccuped once, twice, before devolving into a brief laugh. “That... that does make sense, actually.” Frowning at Trixie she added “Do you... do you know?”

“That Lucifer is being as honest as possible when he says he's the Devil? Yeah.”

Ella frowned. “So... it is true? It still... it still sounds absurd, but nothing else makes sense. Not with Rae-Rae suddenly not being a ghost. Unless there's more ghost rules she's making up on the spot. But... how do you know?”

As casually as possible, Trixie shrugged. “He showed me his wings.”

“ _He has wings_? Of course he does! What do they look like?” Ella stared at Trixie, a slight bounce starting to return to her step.

“Gorgeous. White and glowy and soft,” Trixie replied, tugging out her necklace to show the feather. Ella cooed over it for a moment before giggling slightly. She stepped back and looked back up to the sky.

“It's still surreal. Hard to believe, but really?” Ella shook her head. “It's a lot to process, but hey I've been through worse in Detroit. Let me tell you about _that_ particular Hell sometime.” A wet smile remained and Ella looked past Trixie in the direction of the cafe. “For now... I'll take some time to work it out, but let the big man I'll be back again later.”

Trix nodded, though she desperately wished the scientist would tell Lucifer that herself. The Devil would doubt it until he heard it from the person's own mouth. However, she returned to the cafe, delivered the message and hugged him tight. Lucifer was still at the piano, but nursing a cup of water and awkwardly returned the hug with one hand.

Tears in her eyes, Trixie wondered just how hard was it to have people finally believe you but then doubt everything they knew because of what others said. It was... ironic in a sad and painful way.

*

It was another one of those dreams. She'd had a couple since her beach, but the conversation during that time had been as stilted as their texts. Chloe wondered if her perspective of the current him was skewing these dreams, and it was becoming frustrating since she really did enjoy conversing with the infuriating man. But it was just a dream, so what could she really do?

Though, this was more a nightmare. Chloe found herself freezing, the cold atmosphere seeping into her bones as she stepped around piles of dull gray as if stuck in a monochrome painting that'd forgotten white was still useful. Her mouth and lungs felt dry as if she was constantly breathing in dust or smoke. It was painful.

Why the hell was she dreaming of this? “Lucifer?” she croaked into the air, the sound immediately swallowed by the landscape. She navigated the confusing maze as best she could, eventually trying to mark her path by digging tiny holes in the mounds. “Lucifer?” she tried again.

As she turned a corner, she spotted a silhouette that was vaguely man-shaped. Beckoning to it again, she jogged towards it, casting her gaze about to ensure she didn't miss anything important. When she got close, however, it was evident that the person before her wasn't the man who usually haunted her dreams. In fact, it was a man she'd never seen before. Wearing a trench coat and a vest, he appeared like a man out of time, from a few decades earlier. His posture was casual but firm, blocking her path.

“You should turn back, Chloe Decker,” the man stated.

“What? Why? And who are you to tell me what to do?” Chloe demanded. She wasn't worried about why he knew her name. It was her dream, after all.

“Because up ahead is not a place for anyone to be. Especially not you. It is... my brother's punishment and his alone to suffer.”

“Your brother's punishment.” Chloe snorted at that and folded her arms before her chest. “And just who is...” His brother. Who else could he be talking about but Lucifer? “You're Lucifer's brother?”

“Well, yes and no. The man I was is no longer. I'm just a manifestation in his consciousness, but that hardly matters to _him_ and it certainly doesn't matter to you.”

“Why would you appear in my dream?”

“Your dream? I'm afraid you're mistaken.” The man looked backwards towards the same dust behind him. Following his line of sight showed a glowing light, faint and distant. “This is _his_ dream. You're just intruding upon it. And I can't let you do that.”

“Why not?” Chloe growled in frustration. “And how am I in Lucifer's dream?”

“Anyone ever tell you that you ask a lot of questions?”

“Right now I need a lot of answers. If you won't give them to me, though...” Chloe glanced to the side and then attempted to dash past the guard, climbing up the dust. An arm, far stronger than expected, swung out, however, and caught her, pushing her back. When she was back on the path, the hand remained on her arm to prevent her from trying to run again.

“Lucifer doesn't want you to, obviously. I told you already, didn't I? I'm just a part of him, something he's conjured up in his mind. Therefore, I'm acting on his will and that includes, apparently, preventing one Detective Chloe Decker from going forward.” Dark eyes glowered at her. “You don't deserve his pain. So, go. Turn around and just wait until you wake up.”

He shoved her back slightly and she stumbled. Dust swirled up around her, causing a coughing fit. When it settled, the path was gone with the light beyond it. And so was her mysterious guard.

“Lucifer, what the hell is going on?”

*

It was obvious his ex-wife woke up on the wrong side of the couch that morning. Groaning as if she had had a headache, Dan quickly tried to calm her with a cup of coffee and the good news he had. Victor Smith had turned himself in half an hour ago and Trent was currently interrogating him. Chloe turned an uneasy smile at him and moved to get ready quickly.

On the car ride there, Chloe mumbled “It seems all too easy.”

“I can't say I disagree,” Dan replied. “After all this time, with no clues, he just turns himself in because someone asked him to? Apparently he said something about needing to repent.”

“But what about the cleaning? That had to have been professionally done. There's more to this than him, I think. I don't think he's the professional.”

“You haven't even met him yet, Chlo. Just wait until we get there before we come to any conclusions.”

Chloe grunted in agreement, downing the rest of her drink and setting the tumbler in the center console when they arrived. The two hurried to interrogation, letting Trent out as they arrived. “What'd you get out of him?” Chloe inquired.

“Not much so far. He was coming off of a high until just about five minutes ago. He's still erratic, though, and kept mentioning the Devil like Carmen said.” Trent waved the two forward. “I'll watch from the observation room. I've had enough crazies to last me a week.”

Dan wasn't sure what other crazies he'd been dealing with as Trent had also been on the same strict case duty as them. But Trent's life outside of work was still a mystery, honestly, even after six years. Inside the room, the man named Victor was swaying back and forth, mumbling to himself slightly as he watched the empty space in front of him. Chloe sat down first, Dan taking position beside her.

“Victor Smith, right?” Dan asked. The man nodded, mumbling a 'yes'. “I'm Detective Dan Espinoza and this is Detective Chloe Decker. Can you confirm something with us?”

“Yes! I killed them! I killed those four innocent souls!” the man cried, clenching his fists, slamming them on the table and then tugging hard on the chains around his wrists.

“The four innocent souls? You mean Sally, Will, Dean, and Gene, right?”

“Four. Four. Drugged then killed. It started with Sally. She never should have left, you know.” The man shook violently. “None of us should have left. The Devil is watching. I tried to appease him but it's fruitless. I'm going to Hell and he'll be there to take me. He's watching and taking and no amount of kills seems to satisfy him. He needs more.”

“More... more kills?” Dan said slowly, concern turning his stomach. “Were you planning on killing more people?”

“Never enough! I need more!” Victor gnashed his teeth harshly with each hard sound from his mouth, then he spat at the table.

“Then why turn yourself in, Victor?” Chloe didn't even glance at the table, keeping her eyes solidly on the prisoner.

Victor still for a moment, swaying again. “For... for divinity. Redemption. Heaven. Even just a moment. A moment to last me for my eternal suffering. I turned myself in for that. Please... please forgive me.” The man started crying, his final statement not directed to either of them but instead cast up. “I didn't want to kill them, but I had to. He asked me to.”

The idiotic things people did in the name of God. Dan shivered slightly at the fanaticism fueled by drugs. More questions didn't elaborate much, and Chloe desperately tried to pursue answers to who cleaned up after him. Unfortunately, Victor seemed inclined to blame the Devil for that as much as the inspiration to kill, as if he thought the Devil was eating the bodies that he sacrificed. It was sickening.

An hour later, two tired detectives stepped out of the room, instructing an officer to take Victor away. “I mean, we got the killer, but his accomplices are out there,” Chloe muttered.

Trent walked up to them, shrugging vaguely. “Is that so important? I mean, yes it sucks someone got away with a crime, but the one actually taking lives is caught. Justice served.”

“I don't agree,” Chloe said. “But you guys don't need to worry about it. We'll go gather more evidence to solidly pin him based on what he let us know.” Trent nodded and walked away. Dan made to follow but Chloe grabbed him for a moment before he could get away. Troubled blue eyes searched his face for answers to a question she hadn't asked. “Dan,” she started. “Just hypothetically speaking, you don't think some idiot would make a mistake and try to kill for Lucifer again, would you? Like with Malcolm?”

Lucifer. Man, for a man who wasn't around anymore he did bring trouble with him. Why now, though? “I couldn't imagine why people would, unless they're making the assumption he isn't lying. And that he's here and would notice the kills. So, unless there's something you're not telling me, I don't think this has anything to do with Lucifer.”

Chloe frowned and then nodded again. “You're right. Each kill was spread out and in their homes, so it'd take knowing Lucifer personally to get him to see the deaths, I think. I just... my guts telling me there's something off, like Victor was presenting his kills to someone.”

“That's just the drugs talking, Chlo. The drugs and zealous nature of people who take their religion too far.”


	17. I owe you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shorter chapter today, but hopefully of no less quality than normal! Consider it like a minor interlude.
> 
> And man, you guys are wonderful. I'm so happy seeing people flooding me with support and making connections as it goes on! I want to tell you guys everything, but I'm being a good girl. There's so much I'm looking forward to sharing with you, and I'm excited to write it.

**At the age of sixteen, Ella honestly thought she'd done it all, or at least seen what she hadn't done through her brothers. Life was rough, with only her oldest brother bringing in any significant amount of financial support and a large family being a strain that no one man could handle. Her relatives tried to help, morally and with chores where money wasn't possible, but it quickly became obvious that Ella had to make things happen herself if she wanted anything to move forward. So she wasn't above barely legal—and barely illegal—tasks and spent a significant amount of time volunteering in order to bring back gifts from their neighborhood. She was known as the helpful girl who sometimes talked to herself there.**

**At school, however, she was known as the weirdo who saw ghosts, so she kept her head down a lot more. She didn't join any clubs, received above average grades in her class, and had no real friends to speak of. Ironically, the source of her outcast status was also her source of comfort.**

**Rae-Rae would visit her randomly, going a whole season without visiting sometimes and visiting every week others. Rae never ran out of stories to tell, suggestions to make, or just chatter to fill the silence and Ella was actually thankful for it, despite how it made her seem. The ghost was her personal and forever friend.**

**One day, while Ella was running errands for the one of the kind, elderly ladies who lived a floor below her family, Rae-Rae appeared beside her, smiling slightly as she glided beside her, defying the rules of reality as usual. “Hey, last time we talked, you were looking for a new hobby, right?”**

**“Rae-Rae, that was over a month ago,” Ella said, huffing as she sped down the street. The quicker she finished this, the quicker she got her reward and could move on to the next errand.**

**“Yeah, I know, I've been busy.”**

**“Doing what? You're dead,” Ella teased.**

**“Hey, ghosts still have plenty to do! Unresolved feelings and whatnot!”**

**“Right, sorry, sorry,” Ella giggled. She slowed before the grocery mart and walked inside, ignoring the odd glances she received for talking to air. Was she embarrassed? Yes. Did the entire community already know about her 'psychosis'? Also yes. Only her brother and a few select others accepted her still, which sucked but ignoring Rae wouldn't make them befriend her suddenly.**

**“Well, anyway, what do you think about taking up music?”**

**Ella snorted. “No way. I tried the flute in middle school, remember? The teacher said I have the musical inclinations of a pile of rocks.”**

**“She did not!” Rae protested, though she laughed lightly.**

**“No, she was much more polite about it, but I see through her facade,” Ella replied dramatically as she grabbed a few boxes off of the shelf and marked off her list from the notepad stored in her pocket. “Anyway, you only want me to get into music because of your siblings.”**

**“That's not true,” Rae mumbled. When the teenager glared at her she shrugged. “Fine, but not _all_ of my siblings. Despite preconceptions, not all of them are musically talented. Uri for example? Totes tone deaf. Which is probably why he gives speeches not concerts. Now Raph, Gabe, and Mike? They're great. I could listen to them all the time. Though the best is Sam—no, Lu. Lu is the best. He could woo you with a single note.”**

**Every time Rae talked about her siblings—the almost endless amount—she always seemed bubbly, as if she really liked them even though she couldn't see them any more. Lu, however, was different. Her tone would turn longing, as if her separation with him was vastly different than the rest. It made Ella think that there was a chance for Rae to try and seek her brother out, but she hadn't yet. As if she was hesitating—probably due to being her ghost. It was hard to gauge how long Rae had been dead, but she'd been a young woman since they met eight years ago, so she was at least a decade older. Her outfits changes with the time, so that wasn't a clue, but her language would sometimes date her several decades ago. A strong guess? Rae died in the 70s, but it seemed rude to ask.**

**As Ella listened to Rae, she continued to grab items and mark them off. There was only a dozen or so requests, but they were scattered about the store. Finally, in the middle of talking about one of the times Lu managed to trick Uri into dumping water on Mike—the fact there was multiple of these incidents being the funniest part—Ella couldn't help but ask “Is your brother Lu still alive?”**

**Rae paused and then nodded. “Yes. Yeah. He's just... hard to visit. You know, it's be a long time and... and...”**

**“And you're a ghost so it'd be one sided,” Ella replied.**

**“Yeah. That. Still, maybe one day I could get you to meet him instead. I think you two would get along really well.” Rae grinned like a child and then followed Ella to the register.**

**On the way home, Ella started to dominate the conversation, talking about the recent car she'd taken with her brother before they'd ditched it a full hundred miles out of the city and hitched a ride back with another brother. Once they'd reached Ella's building, however, Rae cleared her throat to draw attention back to her.**

**“Hey, I um, I know you need to bring those things up, but how about we go to the park real quick. I want to watch the sunset.”**

**Ella frowned, looking out at the setting sun. “You can do that alone, Rae-Rae. I'm busy.”**

**“Please?” Rae pleaded, casting her eyes up at the apartment. “If you don't, I'll follow you and sing 'It's a Small World After All' until you relent!”**

**Groaning, Ella agreed, changing direction for the nearby park. Children and their parents crowded the area, though they were all clearly finishing up so they could make it home before full night settled. Ella sat against a tree, Rae-Rae plopping down next to her and starting up a new conversation, this one about cards.**

**That sounded fun, Ella thought. Not illegal, but certainly with it's own terrifying results. The risk of a gamble and the strategy of figuring out the next card.**

**Eventually, though, Rae-Rae left, saying she had something she needed to do and Ella was alone with her thoughts. The sun had fully set and the stars were now out. She was late, but time with her only friend was still treasured. She'd just apologize to her neighbor for the delay, come up with some excuse and accept that she'd only get one reward—probably a reduced one at that.**

**Except, her apartment was surrounded by police when she arrived. Confused, she managed to pester the officers around her enough that they relented and told her that someone had come in and shot and killed someone. They'd caught the guy, fortunately, but were processing the scene.**

**That someone happened to be the same elderly woman Ella had run errands for. A chill crawled up Ella's spine as she realized, had Rae-Rae not distracted her, she couldn't been there when the murderer struck, and taken Ella down too.**

*Many Years Later *

Linda was used to opening her doors late for her friends, having realized that being a therapist often meant helping everyone with their emotional baggage. It had its benefits, as usually they returned her generosity with favors and gifts, and it allowed her to know all the gossip in her circle of friends. Fortunately, nothing serious was usually brewing between them, but Linda had a secret soft spot for juicy details.

Still, never in her years of knowing Ella Lopez had the forensic scientist ever asked Linda for help, at least not more than the passing bit of advice or Uber ride home. So, with the Detroit-raised woman sitting on the couch, fresh tears staining her cheeks, Linda was stunned to silence.

“Sorry,” Ella mumbled. “I don't know where to begin. I mean, I do, but I'm not sure if I can say it? I'm used to coming off as crazy, but that's me. And Chloe's fine with me being me, but I am not sure you would be, or that you'd be okay if you realized he was crazy either or if you've already figured things out and then there's Rae-Rae, who I'm not sure what to--”

“Whoa, Ella, calm down,” Linda interrupted. “Look, let's start small. Know that whatever is said here, stays in here. And no matter what you say, I will not judge you. You're my friend, and so long as you're on that chair you're also my client.” Not that the therapist was being paid for it, but that hardly mattered. Client went beyond the quid pro quo for Doctor Martin.

Ella took a few steadying breaths and nodded. “Okay. Okay. Small. Well, um, then from the beginning. When I was eight, I befriended a ghost. Today, I found out she wasn't a ghost, but an angel. If that... makes sense.”

An angel. Linda paled slightly, but merely gestured for Ella to continue. “What made you think she was an angel?”

“That's... complicated, but it was more an accusation and then a confession. And it wasn't just her.” Ella turned her gaze away, fidgeting as she studied the window, light streaming in as cars drove by in an almost hypnotic pattern.

Linda frowned, taking an educated guess at the blanks. “The other... angel being... Lucifer?”

“I... yeah, yeah... I know it sounds crazy, Linda, but it just all made sense. You see, I've know Rae-Rae for years and she's never aged and no one else has ever seen her. But then out of the blue I go in to Lucifer's cafe and she was just sitting there, talking to Amenadiel! And it wasn't just her playing a one-sided thing, but an actual conversation! And Lucifer reacted to her too, so I tried to get answers and slowly... everything just fell into place.” Ella flung her back on the couch, slumping in defeat. “And I don't know how to feel about all of this! I mean, Rae-Rae's lied to me for years! She's an angel! And that means, well, obviously God is real. Which I've known, but it's different having proof! Like my choice in believing it being taken away. And let's not forget that that means _Lucifer is the actual Devil_.”

A cafe? Amenadiel and 'Rae-Rae' just talking? This meant she had found out around Lucifer, too. Oh, Linda hoped the scientist hadn't thrown a fit at the discovery. First person he revealed himself to avoided contact for a couple weeks, and the second one was so terrified he'd ran away for six years. Linda dreaded the result of another person finding out.

Ella studied Linda with a frown. “I didn't know what to do, at first, but Trix was there too and she chased me down and told me to talk to you. I... she said you knew the truth too, so I hope I'm not coming off as too crazy?”

“What? Oh, no, no.” Linda shook her head, tucking away that 'Trix knows too' bit, and Ella sat up abruptly.

“So, you do know?”

“Yes. I found out early in our relationship,” Linda explained. Ella's eyes glittered with curiosity. 

“Really? What's it like? Being shrink to the Devil?”

Linda snorted, a small smile forming. It seemed Ella was barely bothered by his status. Though still bothered, it was clearly more directed to Rae-Rae. Linda folded her hands on her knee and shook her head. “We can talk about that some other time, first we need to help you with your problems.”

“R-right. I just don't know what to do. What would you do if you found out your best friend wasn't a ghost but an angel? And others you knew were also angels? And a demon, actually, if I think about it.”

Linda shrugged. “I freaked out, but I'm not the best example. You're already handling this better than either Chloe or I.”

“Chloe knows? Of course she does. Damn, and here I've been just out of the loop! You guys should've told me!”

“To be fair, didn't someone try to tell you all the time?”

Ella rolled her eyes. “Yeah, but that's Lucifer. Not down-to-earth Chloe or pick-at-your-brains Linda!”

Linda nodded. “Still, it takes a lot to overcome that level of disbelief. You knew a ghost and had faith in God, but even that couldn't let you accept that a man who claimed he was the Devil was telling the whole truth.”

“Well, he's not exactly how I imagined the Devil being.” Ella sighed. “Not that I mind. It's hard to process, especially with a lot of the things he's said over the years. Or Rae-Rae. Oh man, oh no!” Ella started breaking into uncontrollable laughter, making Linda lean back slightly, eyes widening. “Those stories! They're of 'Lu', as in 'LUCIFER'! Man, I'm going to have to tease him about some of that later.” Ella shook slightly, and then froze slightly, staring at her hand.

In a much quieter voice she continued. “But it's different with him. He's been telling the truth, been brutally honest when it comes to his family and himself. But Rae-Rae? I trusted her so much throughout the years, shared so many of my secrets, but she couldn't tell me the truth. What else has she been lying about? What about all my efforts to help her reach peace?”

Linda tilted her head, considering the situation. “Isn't it possible that Rae-Rae was just trying to protect you? You said knowing angels exist took away your choice in belief. She could have understood that so she went with a much more acceptable option. One that let her still be your friend. Besides, in the end, what has changed between you and Rae-Rae?”

“Everything!” Ella protested, flinging her arms up. “But... nothing I guess. Even her lying is nothing new. This one time, she lied about knowing a client so that she could convince me to tell Chlo...” Ella placed her hands before her again, staring at them but not really taking them in. “She convinced me to stay in Los Angeles because she wanted me to be with people like Chloe, like you, like Lucifer. She...” Ella shook her head. “I guess, she was looking out for me in her own way.”

There was a long moment of silence before the scientist spoke again. “I don't think I can forgive her. Not yet, but I think with time...”

“That's a great start. No one says you have to go all the way in a single day,” Linda encouraged. “Forgive what you can, work through what you will eventually, and don't forget what you can't. It's all about the steps we take.”

Ella smiled. “Thanks Linda.”

“Any time.”

“I owe you. Big time.” Ella seemed to think for a moment before turning a devious smile at the therapist. “How about some of the best coffee I've ever had?”

“That sounds wonderful,” Linda replied, barely catching Ella's train of thought.

“Awesome, I'll let you know next time I have some time off.”

*

Three days after Victor had been arrested, another case fell into Chloe's lap, making her have to shift from settling his case into hunting down a new criminal. It was a breaking-and-entering robbery gone wrong. The evidence was easy to collect, though the process took a bit longer as Ella was still taking time off. When they finally connected DNA to a suspect, Decker and Trent were off faster than they could shout 'warrant'.

They arrived at the suspect's house just as the man was climbing into his car. Growling to herself, Chloe pulled the police car up, blocking his escape. “Oh no you don't,” she said, climbing out with her badge and gun at the ready. “LAPD! Do not move!”

Trent followed, climbing out of the street side door. As he stepped around to join her, the car the criminal was in started back up. Realizing was what about to happen, Chloe tried to jump out of the way, seeing the car reverse as quickly as it could. It slammed into the police car, immediately stopping without enough thrust to push away the vehicle, but the criminal had a gun out and trained on the detective.

A shot rang out, pain piercing Chloe's stomach as she fell backwards, cursing her own rash actions. Two more bangs sounded, though nothing else hit her. Chloe clutched a hand to her stomach, trying to slow the flow of blood. Trent called for her, but she wasn't given a chance to reply before her entire stomach lit up, bright white light beaming out of her like a nightlight. 

The officer stopped before her, eyes wide and staring at her stomach. Breathing was difficult not impossible. After a few minutes, the light faded and the pressure Chloe hadn't noticed lifted, letting in the sounds of confused neighbors who were curious about the gunshots and light. Chloe pulled her hand away, blood staining it and her shirt, though she knew there would be no wound there. Trent never took his eyes off of her as she pulled herself up.

Her fellow officer just watched silently as she arrested their suspect—he was wounded, not dead—and dispersed the crowd. Eyes followed her as she called for a new patrol unit. He remained close when they returned to the station, only stepping away when she went to change—claiming the blood was the suspect's not hers. He didn't protest her lie. He didn't say a thing, not even to ask a question of what happened. And Chloe was thankful as she didn't have an answer this time.


	18. What you always knew would happen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another shorter-ish chapter, but the cut off was too good and the next scene fits better as an opening scene soooo. Enjoy! I'm having a blast with these daily updates! I hope you all are too!

' **The question had seemed innocuous enough, Chloe thought. But she should have known better, considering it was Lucifer they were talking about. So something as simple as "how did you find out he was vulnerable around me, specifically" had started a long rant from the demon who was never afraid to speak her mind.**

**"So of course, he didn't know better when Malcolm tried to kill him, but immediately after some bitch shot him and voila. A few tests in your proximity and out and we found our conclusion. Not that it stopped him from being an idiot and constantly stepping in the way." Maze snorted. "Like, he even got himself killed because he has no sense of self preservation."**

**"Killed," Chloe deadpanned, staring at Maze and waiting for the punchline. She didn't get any.**

**"Yeah, twice, actually, though one was intentional."**

**"What? When?Why?"**

**"Who, where, how?" Maze shot back, a playful grin on her face. The grin dropped and the hunter shrugged. "First one was back with Malcolm. As I said, the bastard wanted Lucifer dead, so Lucifer was killed then but his Dear Old Dad brought him back. In return for a favor."**

**Chloe felt cold. She remembered the horrible scene really well, despite the passage of time. Her daughter had been kidnapped, she'd nearly been killed, and Lucifer had been shot badly enough that she still had the occasional nightmare about it. Lucifer had saved the day, then, but she hadn't really known just how far he'd gone to accomplish that. "And the other time?"**

**"Oh, that was the intentional one. Linda and I brought him back then," Maze noted. Linda looked up, startled at the sound of her name. It was late and the therapist had started nodding off.**

**"Why did he... Die intentionally?" Chloe inquired.**

**"Because he needed to talk to a dead guy and he didn't have his wings back yet," the demon elaborated, sounding exasperated. Chloe just stared at Maze, waiting for more. Like why did he need to talk to a dead guy and how did he get his wings back anyway?**

**Linda was the one who answered, rubbing sleep from her eyes. "He needed to get an antidote recipe, but the professor was the only one who knew it and he'd killed himself."**

**"The professor," Chloe muttered, brows furrowing as she worked through it. Once more her body felt a chill. "Professor Carlisle? You mean the man who poisoned me?"**

**"Yep." Maze downed the rest of her drink in one gulp and tilted the empty cup at Chloe. "When it became evident there was no other way, he set it up so that we could kill him with the shock machine and then bring him back."**

**"Defibrillator," Linda corrected.**

**"Whatever. Anyway, it's not that big of a deal. Death isn't the be all end all for angels as it is for humans and demons. They're immortal. You know, unless they're stabbed with a special Angel of Death blade."**

**"Ah, yeah, I remember that," Linda said solemnly. "That was right before I found out."**

**There was far too much going on; Chloe was having a hard time keeping up, but she didn't want to end things here. Not when they were talking Lucifer _dying_ for her. Because that _was_ a big deal, even if Maze said otherwise. There were far too may questions fluttering around in her head, though. She reached for a notepad and scribbled them down with Maze groaning impatiently.**

**How did Lucifer get his wings back? When did Linda find out and why did Lucifer reveal himself to her? What was the favor he he had to handle for God reviving him? What was this about the Angel of Death and her blade? What other crimes had involved supernatural elements?**

**She tapped her pen on the paper a few times before deciding that was it for now and, taking a deep breath, began to delve further into the other half of the story she'd lived over the past two years.**

*Six Years Later*

Lucifer really was taking advantage of Christian's kindness. The Devil found himself more and more often at the piano, playing some melody to fit his somber mood while the kid was left alone at the register instead of being allowed to socialize with the club. Not once did Christian complain.

Ever since Ella's discovery of the truth, and Lucifer's polite removal from the scene to minimize damage, Christian had just watched Lucifer with understanding and concern painted on his face. Except, he didn't really understand. If he did, no doubt the loyal employee would vacate the premises and never return. Just like Miss Lopez. But what did Lucifer expect? Not everyone could be like young Beatrice. In fact, really the Spawn only accepted him because her revelation was connected to his wings, to a grand act of kindness from her perspective. Rejection of his true self was a lesson he had faced several times, but was apparently struggling to learn.

He played on for hours, moving from one song to the next, accompanying the music with the occasional hummed bars or half sung lyrics. The songs were relaxing to hear, but depressing when words were added. Dreams, rejection, loneliness. If anyone wondered what the Devil was feeling, they could easily just look to the tunes surrounding him, flowing from his fingertips.

His playing only stopped when he heard a familiar voice, one he hadn't expected too hear so cheerfully again. Hands shaking above the ivory, he willed himself to stare straight ahead even as Miss Lopez approached him. Fingers slammed onto the keys when another voice joined it, startling the entire cafe.

"Lucifer?" Linda said into the following silence. His hands were clenched into fists, his teeth gritting as tried to collect himself. Breathe in, breathe out.

"Oh God, please don't faint again, Lucifer," Ella whispered, apparently close enough for him to hear her quiet voice, but it also sounded so far away. His ears felt like cotton had been stuffed in them, a thrumming that could only be attributed to his heart beat drowning out the rest of the noise.

He should be happy Ella came back, right? Except what if she came back to yell at him? To try some futile attempt to banish him back to Hell? But then why bring Linda? Had they talked?

"Hey, Lucifer, are you okay?" Linda asked, a hand touching his shoulder gently. He tossed it off roughly, standing up and stepping away from the piano without looking back. Lucifer tried to reply, explain that he just needed a moment but his mouth felt dry, as if dust had covered it and his throat left parched. Linda, not entirely oblivious to his dilemma, tried again. "Lucifer, can you look at me? Come on, it's safe, I promise."

Lucifer didn't obey, stiffly walking away from them as he tried to recover on his own, one hand braced on the wall as his legs shook with each step. Linda said something again, but her voice was blocked by the thrumming. The light began to fade around him and he knew he lost the battle against his own mind.

Blindly reaching out, he gripped the counter, breathing hard as he did his best to ignore the voices around him. The words were easily replaced with accusations, reminders of the danger he put them through--Linda especially--and how much he'd taken advantage of their kindness, their generosity.

Christian's voice was registered and he tried to cling to it, no memories from the loop connected to the young man, but his own guilt had another idea. Uriel's voice pierced through, the man standing stoically in front of Lucifer, that same smug grin on his face.

"They're just going to keep coming. Once one of them found out, the rest was inevitable. You should run now, while you still can. Save them from you," Uriel said, looking down on his brother despite being shorter.

"I won't break my word," Lucifer growled in response.

"Why not? You did so before. Even if you kept it in the end, you fully intended to break a deal to protect the ones you care about. You saw how Ella reacted. You remember Linda's expression when she realized the truth. You know that they don't actually want anything to do with the Devil. They just forget who you are, because you play them like fiddles."

"Shut up."

"And who's next? Maybe Dan will show up next. At least when he realizes the truth he'll have the guts to punch you in the face like you deserve."

"Shut up! Uriel, I'm warning you!" Lucifer stepped forward, fire burning in his eyes. Distantly he heard a gasp.

"Or maybe it'll be Chloe." Uriel ignored his warning, though his voice dropped to a whisper as he leaned in to his brother. "She knows you're here. It's only a matter of time before she shows up and takes away everything you care about."

Lucifer roared, reaching out to grab the angel before him, his grip on his brother's arm strong as he opened his mouth to threaten the bastard. Instead, a piercing cry broke through, pain evident in the sound. The arm in his hand--far more slender than Uriel's--snapped under his strength.

His vision cleared suddenly, the change almost nauseous. Lucifer pulled his hand back as if shocked, horror on his face as Trixie fell to her knees before him, sobbing as she tried to hold her arm.

What had he done?

"What you always knew would happen," Uriel answered, a bug in his ear.

The Devil was frozen, staring at Trixie as others moved about. Linda and Ella stepped in to try and help minimize the damage. Sarah was on the phone in an instant, probably calling the hospital. Someone was grabbing Lucifer's sleeve--Christian, it seemed but Lucifer couldn't really care. He stumbled away from the group, immediately slipping into the break room and, as soon as the door was closed behind him, spread his wings and fled.

*

The sound of her phone ringing woke Chloe up. Groaning as she picked up her device, she was alarmed at the time. Thirteen hours? She slept thirteen hours. Sure, she had the day off, but sleeping that long hadn't been her intention. It'd been an odd yet relaxing dreamless sleep too.

Her phone kept buzzing, so she picked it up and was immediately bombarded with Ella trying to hastily explain the situation. Piecing together the bits she could get from the rant, Chloe swiftly ended the call with "I'll be at the hospital in a moment". She tossed on yesterday's clothes and exited, worry over her daughter overwhelming her.

From what she'd gathered, Lucifer broke her daughter's arm. He _broke_ Trixie's arm. Anger bubbled up at the thought, causing her to speed ever so slightly on the way to the ER.

She'd been polite and stayed away. Having been insisted upon that Lucifer needed space, she waited for him to come to her. And how did that turn out? Well, she was about to find out. After she was assured Trixie was okay, Chloe would be a woman on a mission and Lucifer would no longer be able to avoid her. There would be a reckoning.

Unfortunately, she was made to wait a couple hours while Trixie was rushed into surgery. Her bone hadn't just been broken. It'd been shattered. Initial reports said she'd mostly recover, but likely suffer permanent limitations.

Linda and Ella sat with her in the waiting room and explained the situation as best they could, elaborating more now that the rush was gone and Trixie was in safe hands. Ella waved her hands in the air as she spoke, and guilt struck her face every so often.

"So, I decided to take Linda to see Lucifer. Because... Well..." Ella frowned slightly and leaned in close. "I recently made a big discovery." She leaned back again and cleared her throat. "Anyway, we show up but before we can make any real conversation, he stands up and tries to escape. We try to talk to him, but eventually it's obvious he's not hearing us and is instead talking to someone else. It looked bad, real bad. His counter bent under his strength and his eyes glowed at one point."

"He was having a panic attack. His employee, Christian, seemed familiar with them," Linda contributed. "But apparently his usual attempts to help Lucifer out weren't working."

"So Trixie decided she wanted to help, but when she tried to grab him, he lashed out. And that's when he grabbed her arm and um... Broke it under his grip."

"Just like that," Chloe muttered. She'd always known his strength was sometimes unbelievable, but she'd never thought to compare it to how it'd hurt her family.

"It wasn't intentional. I didn't see what happened after, but Christian said Lucifer looked pretty spooked. He ran and no one's heard from him since."

Eventually, Chloe managed to get into the room to see a sleepy Trixie. Her monkey smiled blearily when the woman entered, arm in a cast. Returning the smile with a gentle one of her own, Chloe sat on the bed gently, patting her daughter's leg. The detective had hoped to never be in a hospital again, but she would easily trade places with her daughter if she could.

"Hey, Monkey, how you holding up?"

"Better now. My head feels light," Trixie said, giggling slightly. "Like funny light. If this is how drugs feel, I get why Lucifer does them."

Chloe frowned and Trixie giggled harder. "I won't do drugs, don't worry. It'll take more than a broken arm to risk you getting mad. 'Sides, I'd make more money selling it."

"Trixie!"

The teen laughed harder and then groaned, a bit of pain seeping through her medication. After a few moments, as soberly as she could, Trixie locked her brown eyes onto her mother's blue. "Mom. Don't blame Lu. He didn't mean to."

"He broke your arm, Trixie."

"He didn't mean to," she repeated. "And he's going to blame himself enough for this. You can't blame him too. I don't think he'd recover if you did."

Chloe didn't respond. She couldn't. Because she couldn't let go of her anger towards the Devil. How could she when it was her daughter hurt? But she did set aside enough of it to nod stiffly. "I'll handle Lucifer, Trixie. How about you focus on recovering?"

"Okay, Mom," Trixie mumbled. "Love you." She yawned and giggled at the same time, trying to roll over but limited by the machines in the room. Sleep came easy for her and Chloe left her daughter to dream.

*

"I still don't get how he just escaped the break room so fast. The window wasn't even open," Christian muttered as he walked down the street, peering into every alleyway. Esther, Maryann, Jesus and Christian had been assigned to search the local area. Noah and Sarah insisted on watching the cafe, though Christian thought that should've been his role. Lucifer's brother was going quickly to check places Lucifer was likely to escape to, hideouts and favorite spots. They'd tried to reach Mazikeen, Amenadiel claiming she would be the quickest way, but the bounty hunter was apparently out of state on a bounty.

"It's obvious isn't it?" Maryann noted, a tone of 'how could you not know' slipping in. Usually, Christian found it charming. Maryann was by far the most confident of the group and would have been the leader if it wasn't for Trixie. "That strength, those eyes, and vanishing without a thought? He's clearly an angel." The last word was said almost dreamily.

"Isn't that backwards?" Jesus questioned. "Red eyes and super strength kinda makes me think 'demon' not 'angel'."

"It's absurd, though," Christian retorted. "Angels and demons? How insane would you have to be to believe Lucifer's claims?"

"Makes sense to me," Esther said quietly, looking into another alley ahead of them. She shook her head. No Lucifer.

"Okay, but then riddle me this," Christian continued. "If he's an angel, why is he here on Earth and why would he act so..." Wrong. Drinking all the time, a fair bit of drugs in his room, and Christian wasn't dumb when Lucifer slipped away after an attractie individual tempted him, leaving Christian to tend the register while Lucifer had 'fun'. "Unangelic. And if he's a demon, why would he be so... Regretful? Even more than that, why would you want to continue to associate with him?"

"He's not a demon," Maryann snorted. "He's the Devil, which is a fallen angel if you forgot."

"No, I went to Bible school, I know what the Devil is. That man, Lucifer, is not it," Christian denied. Jesus nodded in agreement. Maryann rolled her eyes and Esther shook her head, both clearly disagreeing. "Seriously? How could you believe that crap?"

"I saw proof," Esther whispered.

"Proof?" Jesus inquired, but neither girl answered, hurrying ahead as if speaking more would bring trouble.

*

"What?" Carmen gasped, closing his book--a well annotated Bible--and turning his full attention to his right hand man, his second in command.

"Chloe Decker glowed after being shot and then her wound was gone. Just like that." The man pulled a few books off the shelf, idly browsing them as if uninterested in the conversation. It was a lie. The more he tried to distance himself, the more fascinated he really was.

"And Lucifer wasn't around? Nor his brother?"

"Not that I saw. Better yet, Decker didn't seem surprised by it, as if this wasn't the first occurrence."

"You mean with her miracle healing from cancer?"

"That's one, but I suspect if the doctor's saw her glowing that the news would know all about it. I think... Lucifer gifted her with regeneration. Meaning, the feathers don't just heal what he wants, but could make a man..."

"Immortal." Carmen took a nearby glass in shaky hands, a grin spreading wide on his face as he drank deep gulps of the dark red liquid. Wine as symbolic as blood. "Gentlemen, I believe we just found our ultimate goal. Eternal life of luxury without ever having to face Hell's consequences. A real Heaven on Earth."


	19. Reach out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, we are now above 400 kudos! Thanks so much! I am incredibly flattered by all your support--and I know I say it a lot but you guys really make my day.
> 
> Also, I was driving around town and found there's a little cafe near my home called "Redeye Espresso." Haven't stopped by, but man I was excited for such a silly thing.

**The real problem was that Trent always tried to be proactive. So when the civilian consultant stepped away from the car, Trent followed on a vague consideration of protection. There wasn't much he could do anyway for the actual sting; the detectives and their bounty hunter friend had that handled. Instead, he was on guard duty, self assigned. He kept a polite distance away, though. Not out of consideration, but because, quite frankly, the consultant freaked him out.**

**So, when the call came in that Lucifer was being targeted by the suspect, Trent was the first on scene, hurrying to try and apprehend Burt before anyone else died. As he approached the location, he caught the tail end of the conversation, the consultant relaxed and arrogant as he threatened a man pointing a gun at him.**

**"We're similar in a lot of ways, aren't we Burt? Except for one. You're a bad man. And I'm not," Lucifer stated, laughing briefly. "I'm much, much worse than that."**

**Then he saw it. Only a moment, but it was a moment that was etched in his brain for the rest of his life. Fear on a primal level was pulled out and Trent immediately pressed himself around the corner and attempted to hide himself from the monster that he just saw.**

**Burnt flesh, scarred and stretched over a skull. Even from behind, even without the characteristic horns, Trent's entire being knew what he saw. The Devil.**

***Six Years Later***

**Maryann and Esther were friends before they ended up joining Trixie's group. At the start of high school year, the two ended up assimilating with the rest. Esther through a club with Noah and Maryann by joining them in a group project early on in class. When the two ran into each other hanging out with their new friends, it'd been a pleasant surprise and the result of many jokes between the two. "Who else do we know that we don't know we know?" and similar questions were randomly asked. They'd also grown closer, having been friends who only hung out at school and turning into friends who planned clubs together.**

**Their personalities, usually, clashed. Maryann was a bit of a know it all and Esther was quiet, shy even. However, they made it work. Maybe it helped that the rest of the group was somewhere in between. Trixie seemed to know it all at moments, but was humble about it. Sarah was arrogant, but acknowledged she was only competent at particular things. Though she boasted about this, as if being a master of few was the ideal. Jesus was entirely humble, quick to put others first, and Noah was similar but focused entirely on his friends..**

**So, somehow, the group fit together really well. That didn't stop Maryann and Esther from slipping away, just the two of them, to have some time without a group of people vying to state their opinion. Which meant, when they saw _that_ object, a feather in a box that their club advisor kept hidden in his desk, the two had a private sleepover, planning their own personal next move.**

**"You think he's telling the truth? That Lu is the owner of that feather?" Esther whispered as she helped Maryann dye her hair, applying the gel evenly in Maryann's dark, curly locks.**

**"Didn't Lu tell us himself? That he's _Lucifer_ Lucifer. I mean, I thought it was a joke, but I hadn't seen something like that before. So yeah, I think he's the owner. Plus, you see that necklace of Trix's? The one she spontaneously got before Lu showed up? It all fits."**

**"I suppose. Still, don't you think this plan is dangerous?"**

**"We're already screwed, befriending the Devil and whatnot. Figured we may as well make use of it."**

**"I hope you're right."**

**"If not, I guess Trixie will make us pay. She's awfully protective of a man who tortures people. All I hope is that doesn't come back to bite her or us."**

*Less than a year later*

Once Chloe had collected all the clues and actually pursued him, figuring out where Lucifer lived was easy. Almost depressingly so. He was near her school, easy to get to on the way home, and was a cafe--the logo with horned 'R's had been a dead giveaway without all the other superfluous information. Really, only her daughter's insistence that she stay away had kept him hidden from her. And in hindsight, listening to her was a terrible idea.

When she pulled up to the cafe, it was closed, though two familiar faces were inside. Chloe knocked on the door to draw Noah and Sarah's attention, almost letting out a frustrated groan at their hesitance. Sarah did, however, approach the door after a brief discussion with the other teen. As she opened it to let the detective in, she said "Trixie's not here. She's at the hospital." Blunt as always.

"I'm aware. I just came from there. She just came out of surgery and she'd resting now." Chloe stepped inside, taking in her surroundings. Even this late into the day--it was approaching nine now--the sun still cast enough light into the building to highlight the aesthetic. It was pleasing, but then Lucifer always had an eye for presentation. The piano tucked away in the corner didn't quite fit the setting, but she could easily imagine Lucifer sitting at it. The whole place seemed a lot warmer than Lux or the penthouse had, like a familial setting.

The detective frowned, a mixture of feelings swirling in her stomach. There was something to be said about how a house reflects a person. Lux definitely fit the Lucifer she knew to a 'T'. It was loud, indulgent, filled with people constantly coming and going, but there was a more secluded place as well where warmth and age bled through in the penthouse or the piano stage.

Redeye Roast was warmth but distant, as if ready to pack up and transfer ownership at a moment's notice. Any cafe owner could settle down here and with a minor change make the place theirs. The piano seemed to be the only real bit of Lucifer shining through. Unless he'd changed so much to become unrecognizable that is.

She had more important things to consider, though, than how her ex-partner had transformed over the years. No, Lucifer had to pay for what he'd done. Bringing her attention back to the teens, Chloe continued. "I'm here for Lucifer. Do you guys have any idea where he is?" Unlikely since Linda and Ella had explained that he'd just vanished, but perhaps he was closer to Trixie's friends than his own.

Noah shook his head, sitting casually on a table and drinking a glass of water. "No, we're house sitting in case he comes back." He frowned slightly, glancing at a side door and then the two exits behind him, a staircase and break room. "You can look around though, Miss Decker, if you think it'll help you find him."

"You have the authority to give that kind of permission?" Chloe questioned, folding her arms in front of her.

"No, but he's not really here to do it himself, right?" Noah shrugged.

"You're not upset at him, are you?" Sarah asked as she pulled up beside Noah.

"Wouldn't you be? Actually, why aren't you? You two are some of Trixie's closest friends, but you just seem to accept the fact that he _broke my daughter's arm_ like it's just another weekend."

"That's not it!" Sarah protested. "Lu is... Lu didn't mean to."

"Besides, he's pretty terrifying," Noah mumbled, sipping his water again. "I mean, her arm just snapped with one hand. And those _eyes_."

His eyes? What had he...? Chloe froze slightly as she noticed Noah was staring at her from over the water as if judging her reaction. What did he know and what was he trying to figure out?

All of a sudden, everything felt off. The two teenagers were watching her more, staring at her like she was a puzzle or an obstacle. They weren't just sitting here waiting to see if Lucifer returned; they were expecting something from him. It was evident in their posture, leaning slightly forward in assertion. Not a single bit of antsy behavior for people worried about an injured or missing friend.

Chloe needed to get out of there, needed to talk to Lucifer about so many things now. She'd never taken him for someone who wanted to gather worshipers, but these two...

"So, does he live upstairs or in the back room?"

"Upstairs," Noah responded, breaking his gaze to gesture to the steps behind him with his head.

The detective nodded, slipping past the two and hurrying to Lucifer's living quarters, panic setting in her bones. She organized the mysteries in her head: Lucifer's current life and location, Trixie's arm, the teenagers clearly knowing something, the fact that _Ella_ knew if Chloe was right about her 'discovery'. Clear, simple objectives and it all centered around their missing Devil.

If his cafe had been void of personality, Chloe had to admit his room was very much the opposite, but not in a good way. She'd expected it, to an extent. Baggies of drugs were haphazardly collected on a table with bottles and glasses strewn about the flour, with varying amounts of alcohol. His bed was covered in more narcotics with one side left bare except the bundled up blanket.

In all Chloe's life, Lucifer appeared remarkably well kept with minor exceptions. This didn't seem like a mess from a recent party, though, and leaned towards the only other exception she'd once. While she hadn't known of Lucifer's brother's death at the time, his near suicidal behavior had always sat horribly with her. This was like that, but worse and extended.

"Lucifer," Chloe whispered, concern overwhelming her despite her still simmering anger. "Why didn't you reach out for help?"

As she left the room, noise started to rise up from downstairs. More people had evidently showed up. The rest of Trixie's friends and Ella stood in the lobby, clearly having a heated discussion.

"You guys still have school tomorrow," Ella insisted. "I can watch the cafe."

"You're one of the reasons he had a panic attack!" Sarah hissed. Ella winced at that.

"We don't know that for sure," the scientist muttered.

"Oh, don't we? How about we ask the guy who knows best? Christian?" Sarah turned to the brunette standing awkwardly at the side.

"Well, I don't know for one hundred percent, but yeah, Lu's triggers seem to be his old friends," Christian replied. "Except Maze, that is." Sarah smirked triumphantly at Ella. "That being said, Miss Lopez isn't wrong. We have finals coming back this week and really need to be in class."

"So? I'll go to class sleepy, it's fine!" Sarah remarked.

"Look, your crush on the man is bordering on creepy, Sarah. I'm sure we have other options," Jesus grumbled.

"I may have a solution," a new person said, bringing eyes to two figures at the door. One was Amenadiel. The other was an unfamiliar woman, much shorter and somehow awkward seeming next to the angel.

"Rae-Rae," Ella whispered, voice choking. The newcomer's eyes connected briefly with Ella's before both jolted away. Chloe considered the woman. Wasn't Rae-Rae the name of Ella's ghost friend?

"I'll stay," Amenadiel offered. "I don't have a job or school and Luci is fine with me."

"See? Simple solution," Lopez agreed, waving to the two at the entrance. "Though, are you going to stay too, Rae?"

"No, I was actually hoping to um... Talk with you," Rae said quietly, shifting awkwardly. "But if I have time, I'll be there for my brother too. Just... This is important."

Ella's eyes watered for a moment and she nodded, slowly at first and then rapidly before stopping. "Yes, I'd like to talk to you to."

"Then it's settled," Amenadiel concluded.

"Wait," Chloe interrupted. "I never said I agree with it either. Lucifer injured Trixie. I need to talk to him. I demand answers."

Dark eyes stared at the blonde, pain evident as he shook his head slowly. "Chloe. I would like nothing ore than to reunite you and my brother, but right now I don't think that's possible. With all due respect, your presence could be the worst situation right now."

"Oh, and why's that?"

The answer was slow in coming when Amenadiel finally decided to tell he stepped in close so that only he, Ella, Rae-Rae, and Chloe could hear, deliberately blocking the teens and clearly wanting to do the same with Ella but unable due to proximity. "When I found Luci, Chloe, it was bad. I didn't see everything, but I know for a fact that he was holding you in his arms." The dark angel spoke in a hushed voice, confusion flashiong across the women's faces.

"What do you mean?" Chloe pushed.

"I mean that your dying was a major part of Luci's Hell Loop."

*

Lucifer landed in the hospital room as quietly as possible, folding his wings and collapsing in the chair by the teenager's bed. She was still asleep, dozing quietly in the bed with her arm encased in a bandage and hiding the worst of the injury. The longer he watched her, the more she started to fade to gray and crumble before him, the edges of her body chipping into dust and collecting on the hospital bed. His heart seemed to be crumbling with her, pain echoing with each beat.

Bowing his head, Lucifer squeezed his eyes shut to banish the image. Quietly, he spoke in earnest. "I am so sorry, Beatrice. It was never my intent to hurt you. I don't want to ask for--don't deserve--forgiveness, but I know you'll give it readily." He laughed, the sound short and more like a quiet bark of frustration. "That's something you and your mother also have in common. And endless amount of goodness, which you give out readily to all you can. It's... You two are incredible that way.

"But I can't accept it. Not right now. I've done far too much to hurt you two, hurt all of you, and there's so much more wrong that could happen. I should have known better. No, I did know better, I was just too selfish to let you go. I tried once, but seeing you want to stay made me waver. I couldn't go through with it.

"That changes though. I'll keep my promise to stay for the full year. That was our deal. But Los Angeles is a big city. So, I doubt I'll see you again. I just wanted to offer my sincerest apologies before I left, as well as my farewell. I hope you recover quickly." He lifted his eyes up to Beatrice, her breathing steady and slow. "You are... Precious to me."

Lucifer reached out a hand, squeezing the good arm gently, and then stood up to leave. His wings unfurled and a consideration made him hesitate. It'd worked on Chloe, perhaps he could... No, it was far too dangerous. Divinity did funny things to humans, and Chloe's immunity was the only reason he'd thought her the exception. Trixie was less likely to be resistant, and the wound less than Chloe's even. Healing her could have disastrous results.

The door to the room slammed open, causing Lucifer to jump slightly in surprise and fold his wings as quickly as possible. Fortunately, it was Maze who stood there, snarl on her face and knives in her hands. Of course, she probably heard of Trixie's injury from Linda or something and came to exact revenge. Lucifer held his hands up in surrender. "If you're going to hurt me, just please avoid the face Maze."

Maze's snarl dropped, confusion flashing briefly before she glanced between the two in the room. "What? No, I'm not here to hurt you, Lucifer. Not that you don't deserve it, mind you, but I was asked by three people not to take it out on you." The demon snorted and rolled her eyes. "I'm here to take you home, idiot. Everyone's looking for you and they apparently can't piece together where you'd go. So come on, hop to it."

Lucifer frowned, brown eyes studying his demon and then the teen next to him. "Sorry, Maze, but I'm not going. I'll just do everyone a favor and leave."

"See, I'm not okay with that. Don't think you can leave for years, come back for like four months and then run away again after one fuck up," the demon growled, stepping in with a knife held up to strike.

"For someone saying they aren't going to hurt me, you don't seem to act like it."

"Oh, I want to, but that's not the point. Don't change the subject. You're going to wait at home like a good boy and apologize properly. Then, you're going to stay and deal with the consequences, Lucifer."

Anger flared in the Devil, his eyes glowing with Hellfire. "You do _not_ command me, Mazikeen."

"I'm aware, but this isn't just from me. It's from everyone. So you can run away like a coward, selfishly licking your wounds and floundering in self pity, or you can man up and talk things out with everyone. Or did they take your balls while you were in Hell?" Mazikeen sniffed, eyes dropping disapprovingly to his lower half.

Gather his fury was more comfortable than the grief he was suffering. "You will not--"

"Speak to you that way, yeah I've heard that line." Maze rolled her eyes. "Your choice, Lucifer. Be a coward and run, or man up and stay."

He should run. Regardless of what Mazikeen claimed, leaving was best for everyone. He knew it, heard it on repeat in his head. Sure, there was cowardice in it, but at least he didn't hurt anyone else wit h his departure.

A hand grabbed his from the hospital bed, pulling Lucifer's eyes back to the teen, his eyes quickly turning back to brown as the teen blinked at him. A soft smile formed on her face and his resolve began to melt. "Please don't go, Lu," Trixie whispered, squeezing his hand with hers. His fingers tightened briefly on hers in return and he nodded, stiffly. Damn what the women of that lineage did to him. Beatrice turned back to Maze and smiled at her too. "Thanks, Maze for comi..." Her voice faded into a yawn and she closed her eyes again.

"Yeah, I got you Trix," Maze replied. "You rest for now. I'll make sure he sticks around long enough for you to punch him with both arms." The demon affectionately patted Trixie's head and the girl didn't respond, already drifting back to sleep.

"So, home," the demon muttered.

"I suppose." Lucifer shifted uneasily but brought his wings back in and followed Maze out the door.

By the time he got back, only Amenadiel was there, who welcomed him with a hug and far more affection than he deserved, but Lucifer just accepted it, too tired to put up a fight. Seeing Lucifer glance around the empty cafe, the eldest patted him gently, offering a simple explanation. "The others went home so you could be safe. They'll still want to talk, make sure you're okay, but we agreed I was the best option here." A brief, pitying expression crossed his face. "That being said, I did promise to deliver a message. I was told that the moment you felt recovered, you need to talk to Chloe. If you don't, she's threatened to send Maze to fetch you."

Lucifer nodded slowly. Of course the detective would go looking for him. He'd expect nothing less of the mother of Trixie. Retribution was due. At least through her he wouldn't suffer the pitying attitude everyone seemed to want to give him, as if he was some broken doll in need of careful reparations. Lucifer shoved his hands into his pockets and pushed past his brother.

"Luci?" Amenadiel called out. Lucifer turned around, seeing the angel and demon standing next to each other, encased in the dim light from the street lamps that leaked through. It was funny how Lucifer once thought an infernal and celestial being would be disastrous. Then, perhaps he'd even considered them a half decent match, a duo that could prove even opposites could break bread. It was a lie, in the end, though. But not entirely.

"Are you okay?" Mazikeen asked, a surprising amount of concern from his former right hand servant.

"About as well as I can be," he answered vaguely. Both knew it was a non-answer, really, but he didn't let them continue to try and comfort him, escaping up the steps to his room and locking the door behind him.He slumped down onto the floor, casting a disgusted look at the room and pulling his knees up to bury his face into it.

The room was a temporary escape. Eventually, he'd have to face the music. The problem was that he wasn't sure he wanted to hear the melody or not, a harsh sound that'd burrow itself into his soul.

*

Azrael and Ella sat quietly for a long time, staring at their hands and knees with a coffee table between them. Occasionally, one or the other would glance up, start a sentence, abandon it and return to staring at their lap. However, eventually, Ella managed to gather the courage to speak. "I don't like that you lied to me about who you are, Rae-Rae," Ella stated as simply as possible. "I don't even understand why you would. I mean, either way I'm crazy in the eyes of my friends. The creepy girl who talks to invisible people, you know? Linda said it was because you wanted to protect my choice, though, so I guess I want to know: was that the case? Were you protecting me in your own way?"

The angel--still a strange concept--blinked owlishly and then shook her head slowly, causing the scientist's heart to sink slightly. "I guess that'd be a good reason, but that wasn't it. I mean, my reasoning wasn't very good, but I did want to help you. I thought claiming to have an angel you could see would be worse than a ghost." Rae studied her hands, twisting themselves nervously.

What? An angel worse than a ghost? "How could you think that?"

"Yeah, in hindsight, it didn't make a difference, but by the time I realized it, it was too late. And I liked you too much to risk losing you as a friend. You're... You're a bright light in my otherwise terrible day." Azrael huffed out a breath. "Being the Angel of Death sucks."

"I imagine. Working with dead people all the time?"

"Mostly having to guide those who are lost up or down. They're.. Dreary. Trust me. You're not."

Ella nodded slowly. "Anyway, I can't say I forgive you, but right now I think there are more important things at hand. And at the end of the day, you're family. My brothers have done far worse things to me than claim to be a ghost when they're actually an angel." Thinking back to a few particular instances, including where her brother tried to lie about a drug she needed to ave Chloe, the only part that really could be pinned on Azrael is how much her world had been upset. She'd gone from a believer defined by faith to one delving in fact. "Besides, another family member needs our help so much more."

"Lucifer," Rae-Rae agreed.

"So, you know him better than I. What can we do to help?"

"Actually," Rae mumbled, hands twisting again. "I barely know him, now. I mean, I did, before time was really understood, before Lucifer was really Lucifer. But I'd only just reconnected with him before he left, and you knew he'd returned before me." She tapped her chin in thought. "Thinking about it, meeting up with Lucifer was because of you both times, though one was more emotional than the other."

"Really? Why were you two distant?"

An awkward laugh escaped Rae's lips and she shrugged. "Well, after a century or two, it becomes just plain uncomfortable to try and say 'hey, long time no see? Sorry we didn't talk sooner, I didn't know how to approach you again after you became the Devil.' Incredibly weird."

Ella's laugh was much brighter, as she imagined Rae holding out a gift with a rushed apology. "Okay, point taken. How do help Lucifer, though? That's twice he's freaked out on me, but I thought he was doing better."

"I don't know, but if what Amenadiel said is true, I don't think you can help him."

"Right, that 'Hell Loop' line. What is that? And how does it connect to me if it was Chloe in the Hell Loop thing?"

The angel closed her eyes, humming in thought. The tune was melodic, as if music was second nature to her. Perhaps it was. "Hell Loops are what the guilty souls experience. They're manifestations of the individual's worst sin, what they think they deserve, deep down, in light of all their wrong doings. Sometimes it's the memory of their mistake--like murdering a friend or lover over and over again. Sometimes it's a twist on what their mistake resulted in--like letting a criminal escape so they constantly watch said criminal destroy everything they love. Or it's related to taking away everything good, like starving a glutton or providing a lecherous person with the frivolities but making it hurt in one way or another.

"From what Manny has told me, Lucifer went to Hell and ended up stuck in one of these Hell Loops. One tailored to him. I don't know the full details, but if Chloe was in it and he reacts so poorly to you as well, then I suspect his Hell Loop involved your group of friends here in LA. And whatever it was, he had to face it on repeat in Hell with no escape until Manny brought him back."

"So he was stuck seeing us suffer for six years?" Ella gasped, trying to picture what Lucifer saw that would make him freak out. He never seemed to care about dead bodies, though being the Devil that made sense. What could be done to them that would bother Satan so much?

"Longer. Hell moves differently as far as time is concern." Azrael screwed up her face, an eyebrow arching as she tried to configure the time before it relaxed and she shrugged, giving up. "A minute could be an hour, a day, a year down there. So he could have spent millenia there in an endless cycle that slowly broke his soul apart."

"That sounds like..."

"Hell?" Azrael offered with a weak smile.

*

Chloe was unsatisfied, her anger and worry left with no where to go. Trixie was brought back from the hospital late that night, largely at the girl's insistence. Six months of her mother there left a bitter taste in the teen's mouth, and Chloe didn't blame her. She felt uncomfortable there too, and she barely remembered her time there.

Once she tucked her daughter in, managing a joke about reading her a book in bed, she escaped to her couch and poured a large glass of wine. Screw this day and it's entirety. She'd slept most of it away, leaving only her frantic rush to the hospital and then better hunt for Lucifer. Ending it with being told she was, essentially, to blame for Lucifer's situation... No, Chloe was done.

So when she nodded off and her mind traveled to an empty club with a familiar man standing before a piano, looking down on it, she immediately stormed up to him. Anger caused her to punch him, hard, before he even had a chance to turn around, though he'd tensed as if he'd sensed her. Lucifer stumbled forward, hip hitting the instrument and still he faced away from her.

"Why the hell did you do it? Huh?" Chloe snapped. He wouldn't have answers she wanted. He was a dream-version of her target, right?

A brief memory of an unknown man and landscape shook that concept, but didn't break it down.

"I've done what I could," Chloe hissed. "I've kept my distance when everyone told me I should. I stayed in LA when I was asked, when _you_ asked. And this is the result? Trixie didn't need to get hurt! She's so concerned about you, doing her best to help, but you... You..."

"I know," Lucifer whispered, his voice cracking over the words. "I'm sorry. To both you and the Spawn. Neither of you deserve what I've done."

"Why did you do it?" she demanded. Brown eyes peered over his shoulder but he remained steadfastly facing away.

"I didn't know it was her. I... I couldn't see reality. I was trapped and I lashed out against someone else." He cast his gaze upwards at the light above, pulsing in a familiar way. Slowly, the world around them seemed to shift. The stairs, piano, and bar all started to crumble and wind seemed to bring in specks of gray, accumulating around them. Chloe's breath caught in her throat as she looked around. In between one look away and the next, a man stood where the piano had once been, a knife sticking out of his chest. She recognized him from the last time she dreamed of this place. A man she didn't know. Yet, when Lucifer spoke his name she was unsurprised. "Uriel."

The man turned to sneer at Chloe. "She shouldn't be here."

"Shouldn't she?" Lucifer asked, his voice wistful but pained. "She has been here before, many times. What difference is it now? Merely changing the words, the truth shifting to fit my new reality, hm?"

"What do you mean?" Chloe questioned, stepping up to stand next to Lucifer. He didn't face her, but she could see his face, soft and sad. It made her want to reach up and touch him, the memory of the last time she got the chance to still vivid in her mind's eye.

As if summoned by that thought, the world shifted again, though not completely. Lucifer and she stood on a balcony, the city's night sky above them and sculptures of dust below. Uriel floated on nothing, the balcony being the only stable ground in their combined dreams.

Eyes still fixed on the man with the sword in his chest, Lucifer responded at last to Chloe. "Eventually, everyone around me gets hurt, corrupted, or killed. It happened with Charlotte, Cain, Uriel, and Trixie. I'm sure even you have suffered somehow, if I look deep enough. I... Bring ruin. I'm poison to all."

Chloe shifted uneasily, her mind blurred with so many thoughts, but she shook her head slowly as a conclusion arrived. Yes, she was mad about Trixie being hurt, but she knew Lucifer. Knew him well enough to know that cafe wasn't his home, not really. Knew him well enough that she should have remembered, first, how much he'd sacrificed of himself to protect before he sought destruction. Her hand reached up, pressing against his cheek and finally, _finally_ , drawing those dark eyes to see her. Holding his gaze, she found what she wanted. Real affection, concern and love towards those he thought he was destroying.

In an echo of her thoughts, so long ago, she whispered "No you're not. Not to me."

Then everything seemed to vanish, the world blinking and leaving her in a white space until the ringtone of her phone eventually woke her up.

*

Lucifer sat up with a jolt, sweating and uncomfortable on the floor. He stood up on shaky feet, rubbing a hand through his hair. What was that about? Lucifer almost regretted waking up, hearing words he so desperately wanted to hear again. His heart pounded in his chest, both anxious and hopeful. Burying his face in his hands, he allowed himself a moment to collect all of his emotions and then set about figuring out what woke him up. It hadn't been long, after all, that he'd fallen asleep. The moon was still out, though a hint of dawn was approaching. It was possibly five in the morning, perhaps earlier.

He walked slowly down the stairs, looking around to see if he could locate the culprit that broke his dream. Fortunately, it was immediately obvious. A hole in the wall roughly the sized of a small human was hard to miss, after all. The brick was broken or collapsed inside and Lucifer strolled over, opening the side door that lead to the alley.

Outside was that same symbol he'd seen with the rodent sacrifices. A message saying "To eternity with you" painted itself on the opposite wall. And, lying on the ground with the upper torso burnt from an explosion, was a corpse. A human corpse.

"Bloody Hell."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the one and only time I'm going to do this, but I figured I'd let you guys know. I have the next chapter written. I can, if you wish, post it when I wake up. Or I can post it on Sunday, go back to my usual schedule. Either way, the following chapter (21) won't be released until next Thursday. We're going into the final arc here, and I have to work out the specifics. 
> 
> The choice is yours alone.
> 
> (And no one is obligated to answer. If you don't have an opinion/can't choose, I'll still get the chapter up on Sunday, first thing. I just figured I'd offer)


	20. An Eternity of This

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My lovely husband wanted me to call this "You asked for this" because he thinks I'm evil. I insist I am not! Anyway, welcome to the last flashback of the entire story. (Hence why you got two last chapter, because they were important to put in before capping it off)
> 
> I will reply to yesterdays comments as soon as I get an opportunity, by the way! I haven't forgotten you guys!

**Hell never changed, in that it was always changing but the whole of it was the same. Darkness, ash, sulfur, screaming, endless jagged mountains creating a maze only Lucifer and the top ranking demons could navigate blindly. It was, well not Home but familiar. His steps, therefore, were sure as he twisted around corners and passed the infinite doorways that housed a single soul. There was only one damned being he was after, though, and only one question he needed an answer to.**

**Not that he wouldn't slip into a couple of other rooms. There was a cop and a professor that were certainly overdue for a visit from the Devil, for example, and Lucifer could really do to blow off steam. He was angry, definitely, at how Chloe had been reacting after all. Angry, sad, and probably a bit disappointed. But he was biding his time, letting her adjust to the concept of her partner's truth being an absolute _truth_. It was hard, but he was doing it.**

**The pain that came with the rest of the emotions was the part he was struggling with. He'd been rejected before, by the very detective that just rejected him again. This time was different, though, and despite all logic indicating otherwise he couldn't help but think it was his fault. Nonsense, but he'd long learned that emotions were nonsensical. That was why he was seeing a therapist after all.**

**So, he had a question to pose. More an request for elaboration on a particular statement Cain had said before, after their brief stint as a married couple. "It's hard not to get attached." At the time, it was attached to their mutual immortality, an expression to try and indicate Lucifer didn't understand Pierce's pain. Asinine at the time, Lucifer understood the concept of people leaving, passing away and going to Heaven while he remained barred from following. Sure, he hadn't had to live through their aging, but Lucifer had existed eons longer than even Cain's parents, his position as an angel coming before time existed. Aging had been a natural thing to him.**

**However, he was coming to realize there was a different kind of abandonment that resulted from getting 'attached'. The fear that, even after bearing his soul to her, Chloe would never let him back into her life. It was as if he could feel their connection breaking with each startled glance and tense jolt away from him. There was only one other person who could explain this to him, well two but Linda had mysteriously vanished and wasn't answering her phone. So, to Pierce it was. Because he could wait for Chloe to come to terms with who he was, but he couldn't dwell in this sickening feeling of pain, loneliness, and guilt.**

**"Hold on," Lucifer muttered, pausing in his trek as he took in his surroundings. This was not where he was supposed to be. The residents' doors he stood near were not ones he'd find on his path to Cain. If he'd taken a particularly long detour, perhaps, but Lucifer had intended on going in and out as quickly as possible, hopefully being able to return to his detective with newfound resolve.**

**Instead, he'd strayed. No, he was drawn here. The Devil turned sharply in place, realization dawning on him at the danger being here while he was feeling _guilty_. Shit.**

**Before him sat a door, one that slid open as he stepped towards it unconsciously. The ding of the elevator sounded again when it closed behind him. Lucifer held his breath, the heat of hell seeping away as he went down, ever downwards. How fitting, though it was a much gentler fall this time. Shaking his head, Lucifer resolved to just turn around and go back up the moment he reached the bottom. Though, as king of Hell, he knew there was no escape. He was lucky he escaped last time, and he had help then.**

**When the doors finally opened, Lucifer had to admit he wasn't sure what he expected. Maybe the penthouse again, his late brother fumbling his way through the keys. Certainly not Cain, at least, as Lucifer didn't regret killing the first murderer. It was a long time coming. Still, the endless expanse of darkness, empty of smell and sound, was not remotely considered. The only thing in the room, something that stood out as a result, was the light far away, pulsing rhythmically. No matter how he turned his head, the light followed, with the only exception being the elevator door, that now stood unsupported in the abyss.**

**Right, leaving. He wasn't rooted here, but the longer he stayed, the more likely he was going to get caught. Lucifer stepped towards the doors, but they didn't open when he pushed the button.**

**"Where do you think you're going, brother?" Uriel said from behind the Devil. Lucifer held a hand up groaning as he faced the dead angel. A blade was sheathed in his chest already and Lucifer's eyes locked onto it. He'd killed twice now, including a human, but the most surprising realization was that he didn't regret killing his brother anymore. The guilt wasn't entirely gone, but it was subtle. Not enough to anchor him. It should have been a relief, but instead he felt dread.**

**"I hardly think that matters to you, Uriel," Lucifer informed the deceased angel.**

**"You see, I think it does. Considering I'm stuck here. You and I are the only ones inhabiting this place so your actions very much matter to me."**

**"You're not even actually here, Urinal," Lucifer spat, rolling his eyes at the man. "You're just a memory plucked from my mind. And I'm not sure what you're doing here, I've gotten over your death!" He tossed his hands up in the air, frustrated at being unable to leave and stuck with the most annoying of his brothers.**

**"Clearly not, or I wouldn't be here." Uriel looked around the emptiness. "But I guess your guilt towards me _has_ diminished. Instead, I think you summoned me for a different purpose. Like perhaps... To handle her."**

**Then, Chloe was there, brow furrowed in confusion as she took in her surroundings. Lucifer's stomach flipped. It couldn't really be her, but he still stepped towards her in concern, wanting to ease her troubles.**

**When Chloe stepped back, her face instead twisting in disgust at him, he stopped. "Detective?" he asked.**

**"Stay away!" she yelled, pulling out a gun and pointing it at him. He didn't move, eyes on the barrel for only a moment before returning to her face. "You're horrible. A manipulator, just like your father."**

**"What? No, don't you dare," he growled. Distantly, the light pulsed in a new rhythm as if trying to communicate. "I'm nothing like him."**

**"You're right. You're worse. He doesn't come to earth and play at being human. He doesn't trick people into caring for him, hurting for him. You lied to me."**

**"I most certainly did n--"**

**"You knew I didn't believe you, but you kept dragging me along in your game of make believe, your little cops and robbers act. You _used_ me. Used my daughter. My family, my friends, my coworkers. You infiltrated every part of my life for your own selfish gains. But now my eyes are open. I see you for what you really are. You're the Devil. Evil Incarnate."**

**"No, Chloe, please, I'm not." Lucifer's anger vanished, fear seeping in as he stepped again towards her. She fired her gun, but it hit his shoulder and he ignored it. "I tried to tell you the truth! But I couldn't. My Devil Face was gone!"**

**"Why not your wings? You showed them to Charlotte."**

**"Because she didn't matter like you do!" Lucifer roared, his hand reaching out and grabbing her arm. "It didn't matter to me if she saw me as an angel. It didn't matter to me if she mistook who I was. You do! I didn't want you to receive anything less than the absolute truth! And that truth is..." He trailed off as he saw her arm turn gray, the dull color spreading up her arm before it began to crumble in his grip. He let go with a start, eyes widening as the gray consumed all of her.**

**Before she completely collapsed, she managed one last statement. "You did this to me. You ruined me."**

**A pile of dust was left where she once stood, a gun next to it but aged as if symbolizing the speech, the wound that still ached in his shoulder. The Devil stared at it until a wind built up, tossing the dust to the side, to collect at some location in the abyss. He yelped, turning to follow it, desperate to protect... Whatever it was, the remnants of her.**

**A hand gripped his shoulder, causing hot pain to shoot down his body as the bullet wound sealed up as if cauterized. Uriel laughed, leaning against his brother as he watched the dust collect in a pile in the distance, the gun sitting on top of it. "So, back to my purpose. I'm your warden. I'm here to keep you here, to make sure you play witness to all of their testimony."**

**"All of their testimony?" Lucifer asked, eyes locked on the far away weapon.**

**"Oh indeed."**

**"Lucifer?" A child's voice made him turn to face Trixie, looking frightened in the darkness. "Where's Mommy?"**

**"No, please, Uriel, not her too. I couldn't bear to lose her too." He hated how pitiful he sounded. Over the bloody spawn of all things.**

**Sad brown eyes gazed up at him and she similarly started a speech, reminding him of all he was doing to them by playing with their compassion, their obliviousness. "You scared the other children. You made sure they wouldn't stand up to me anymore, but I don't want that. I don't want you to just decide what's best for me. I've gotten into so much trouble because of you. I've almost lost my mom and dad because of you. You can only take things away from me, leaving only the worst lessons."**

**"Beatrice," Luifer began, but Trixie screamed at him.**

**"You won't even call me by name! I'm Trixie, but you won't acknowledge me! I'm just a pawn to use on Mom! To get closer to her! I'm not even human to you!" She started to cry, hands pressing to her face. By the time he noticed she, too, was turning to dust, her legs were already gone, leaving just a floating torso.**

**Despite her accusation, he caught her before she fell, holding her close in one of the hugs she so often liked to give him. The child did not return it, mumbling more statements about how horribly he treated her until her entire body was only specks of gray and carried off in the wind to join the pile that was her mother.**

**"We all know how this goes," Uriel explained, standing over the crouched body of the Devil. "A loop. Forever and ever. You will suffer an eternity of this. All the truths you're afraid they'll realize spat at your face as they reject you. As they do exactly what you know they should do."**

**"Must they die?" Lucifer plead, realizing the worst part wasn't their upset but that they were gone.**

**"It's hard not to get attached," Uriel replied. "Isn't it?"**

**"Pierce..." Lucifer whispered.**

**"An interesting one, you thought. How could someone so human connect so strongly with the Devil for even a brief moment in time. Your age spoke to him, but you also lived entirely different lives. Who was the most evil, I wonder? You both took only one life that you truly regret taking, only one death condemned you to Hell, even temporarily, but between the two of you, who do you think deserves it the most?"**

**"I'm the King," Lucifer said. "I have done nothing but deserve this place since the beginning of time." He hated how true the words felt as he spoke them. "Cain is just a resident. Evil, yes, but not evil enough for me to warn the detective."**

**"Another statement your dear Chloe should have said, I guess. Maybe next time."**

**He didn't want there to be a next time. He was already feeling his heart break at the sight of Chloe and her daughter slipping through his fingers like sand. But what he wanted was never what Hell gave. It only gave what he believed he deserved.**

*****

**If Lucifer could distance himself and look at the scene analytically, he'd have to give credit to the very foundation that made his kingdom. It knew exactly where to stick a knife and twist for the most amount of suffering. Honestly, there wasn't much need for the demons, at least there wasn't any for his Hell. But then, he had his own personal demon in the form of Uriel**

**It wasn't constant torture. Such methods would allow the victim to grow numb, to adjust to the pain that he dealt with. No, he was allowed moments of reprieve. In the form of Uriel talking to him, recanting some incident Lucifer had experienced and pointing out exactly what Lucifer did wrong, where he made things worse.**

**Then the speeches would renew and his friends would appear before him. Scared, angry, depressed, hurt, and sobbing. Always with accusations of what he did, what he could do, and how they had or would suffer. Despite knowing it was fruitless, he always cried out to them, tried to reassure them. They wouldn't listen.**

**The worst part was when they began to lose color and deteriorate before being carried away from him to the growing landscape. Another would appear, following up on the last person. The number of people before Uriel cut in varied, and it jarred him when Uriel stepped in and Lucifer was given a moment to see all the destruction he had brought in the form of gray hills and mountains.**

**The process would repeat. Uriel reminiscing in sick horror, those Lucifer cared about showing up to curse his name, then them dying to become nothing more than a piece of the abyss. Years, decades, millenia past with just Lucifer, Uriel, and the destroyed remains of his loved ones.**

**All during the cycle the light in the back thrummed frantically, as if trying to draw him in but failing.**

**It vanished only once, and the Devil found himself surprised enough by its absence that the cycle faltered. Uriel, annoyed at this, turned to strike at the current speaker. Chloe, surprised, didn't go down without a fight. She never went down without a fight. Not once in her cycle. Hers was the most painful both physically and emotionally for a reason.**

**But she was also no match for an angel, and Lucifer hurried to her fallen body, pulling it close with a whimper, his voice giving up as he carefully stroked her hair, asking his brother a simple question. "Why?"**

**Why? Why? Why did this have to happen? Why did they have to die?**

**The light returned, and with it another sound Lucifer hadn't heard in forever. The ding of an elevator.**

**He'd never confess this to his older brother, but those next agonizing moments were some of the most relieving in his life. He was given a real escape, even as he clawed and tore away from it, a part of him still drawn to the room.**

**The last thing he saw was the light, shining brightly, constantly. It seemed content, as if happy to see him go.**

**A new question settled uneasily. He didn't know what the light was, why it followed him. Was it an enemy? A friend? However, the question was discard when he landed back on the beach in LA, the night sky much brighter than his Hell, but still dark enough to set him on edge.**

**When Trixie appeared over the edge, calling out to them, he immediately recognized her. How could he not? He'd heard her voice on repeat for so long. Even slightly changed with age, along with her body, there was a distinct pitch to it that was only hers. But more importantly, she wore an expression he hadn't seen in so long. Exasperation had never been so welcomed, but he supposed the Decker family had a habit of winning him over with it.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (To all excited to see Lucifer and Chloe unite in person? Please don't kill me! I promise it comes in the next chapter)


	21. The Suspect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Couple hours late, but happy fourth to all my fellow Americans! And happy birthday to me (because I'm arrogant like that!) I present to you, after a long week, the 21st chapter! I hope you enjoy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Couple hours late, but happy fourth to all my fellow Americans! And happy birthday to me (because I'm arrogant like that!) I present to you, after a long week, the 21st chapter! I hope you enjoy! Thanks for waiting!

“There was an explosion between a cafe and boutique,” Dan, having been on the clock already when the call came in, was giving Chloe the rundown on the crime. “The neighbor, who had arrived early to set up apparently, called it in. Supposedly, the owner of the cafe stays in the store so he should be home. Some guy by the name of Lu. The cafe is called 'Redeye Roast', the boutique is 'In-Style', and the guy who called it in runs 'Paddy Whack'.” He gave a lopsided smile, oblivious to Chloe's dismay over knowing exactly what shop they were visiting. “It's apparently a hobby store, or a 'knick knack' one. They're close to Trix's high school, so they see a lot of traffic from teenagers. Which helps explain why our Jane Doe is a high school girl.”

“So we've no ID on the victim?” Trent questioned from the back seat. He knew the answer, flipping through files as Chloe drove; the clarification must have just been an automatic gesture.

“She's a teen, so unless she had a prior her fingerprints wouldn't be in the system. The top of her body was burnt or um... blown off, so we can't identify her that way. But I'm sure Ella will find out soon enough.”

“Any suspects?” Chloe asked, hoping her voice didn't sound as small to the men as it did to her.

“The cafe owner and the guy who called it in are it so far, but the investigation has only begun. We can look for cameras and see if any caught someone going in before or after our victim.” Dan made to point Chloe in the right direction, but she was already turning. She stopped as she saw the red and blues above the black and whites, pulling into a nearby spot so that getting out didn't involve an intricate car dance in the future. “How's Trixie doing, by the way?”

“She's resting. I called her school already to tell them she's taking a day off,” Chloe replied, walking in the direction of the bright lights.

“That's good to hear. She was asleep when I visited her earlier, but she's a tough girl. She'll push through this.” Dan sounded proud, making Chloe smile softly. The two had dealt with a lot together during her absence. “When I find the guy who did this to her, though.” He grumbled under his breath, and Chloe shared the sentiment even if she was torn considering the circumstances.

Craig, the guy who ran Paddy Whack, greeted the detectives calmly, sitting on bike railing with a bottle of water. He looked slightly shaken, but otherwise fine as he talked with a few officers. Chloe approached as casually as possible, deliberately not glancing at the cafe across the street. Craig offered her a smile and a nod to the two men close behind her. “Detectives?”

“Detective Chloe Decker,” Chloe introduced, holding out her hand. As he took it, she nodded to her partners. “And these are my associates Detective Dan Espinoza and Officer Michael Trent. We understand you called in the incident?”

“Um, yeah, I did. It was a bit before five I think when I heard an explosion across the street,” Craig explained, shifted awkwardly on the railing. “It was incredibly loud and I took cover at first, thinking it was like a gang attack or terrorist or something, you know? Can never be too safe. When I thought it was safe, I stepped out and grabbed my cell and called you guys.”

“Did you manage to witness anything before or after you went into hiding?” Decker folded her arms before her, frowning. There was a fair bit of blank time, depending on how long he remained hidden.

“After, yes. I peered around the edge of the counter and saw Lu—that's the guy who runs the cafe—step out of the alleyway. He stood outside for a few moments before going back into the cafe. I... I think he saw me. We made eye contact, but he didn't do anything.”

“Is Lu still here?” Trent questioned, glancing back towards the cafe. Dan followed his gaze and snorted at the intertwines letters, a logo he was likely all too familiar with.

“I didn't see him leave before you guys came back, at least, so I think so.”

“Okay, I'll go interview him. You two finish up here.” Dan immediately strolled away and Chloe couldn't help but call out.

“Maybe Trent should instead?” she said. Dan and Trent flashed her confused looks.

“I'm not actually a detective, Decker, remember?”

“Right. Right,” Chloe mumbled, rubbing a hand over her face. She really didn't have a strong enough reason to protest anyway. Sure, _she_ was supposed to keep away, but who knew if Dan was as well. And who knew if she actually could anyway? She needed to have a conversation with Amenadiel, with that Uriel guy as well, though that was a bit confusing to her.

Turning back to Craig, she continued the interview, doing her best not to nervously glance back on her ex-husband and ex-partner. “So, what can you tell me about what happened before?”

“Not much. I mean, I didn't notice anything out of the ordinary. I'm not often here in the morning. Only when I'm expecting a particularly busy day or when I closed up late the previous day and didn't finish everything. Today's a bit of both, actually. With it nearing the end of the school year, the students tend to get a bit more excited and it generates more foot traffic.”

“What can you tell us about Lu?” Trent asked, jotting notes in a notebook as they talked.

“Lu? He's a charming guy, honestly. And pretty easygoing most of the time. Ever since he opened up in the area, all of us owners had a dramatic increase in customers. Makes damn good coffee too. I slip by during my lunch every so often.” Craig rubbed the back of his head, a small apologetic smile on his face. “That being said, he's also known for having a temper at random moments. Or zoning out. And he's not afraid to play favorites. In particular, Beatrice is a regular who always skips the line and never pays for her drinks, and this extends to her friends if she's around. Considering how often they're there, it's almost a wonder he stays in business.”

“Does he have any employees who might be around?” Trent continued.

“A single part timer who does sometimes show up this early, but I haven't seen him yet. His name is Christian.”

“Thanks, Craig. We'll be in touch,” Chloe muttered, stepping away for a few moments to study the area. 

Trent slid up beside her, examining her sour face and then turning back to his notes as if they had the answer. “Isn't Beatrice your daughter's name?” Apparently the notes _did_ have an answer.

“Yes.”

“Do you think this Beatrice is--”

“Yes, Trixie is the regular here he was talking about.”

“Do you think Lu knows who hurt her?” He winced when she turned to face him. “You guys weren't exactly whispering in the car and Dan was at work when he received the news. Broken arm was it?”

“Yeah. She's at home, recovering.” Chloe deliberately dodged the first question. Of course Lu knew who hurt her, but she also doubted it was related to the murder. Not that she didn't intend to ask, but she did not think that Lucifer killed their Jane Doe. He just wasn't the type, and that's even ignoring the whole 'angels can't kill humans' condition. “Let's check in on Ella.”

“Ah, wait, detectives! I forgot to mention something,” Craig called out. “It was something odd, but it was a little bit back. There was a period of time where Lu would step out of the alleyway carrying something in a black bag. He also seemed to be busy cleaning there, during those times, and he never seemed that happy about it. I don't know what happened, but it was definitely odd.”

“Thank you,” Trent said. “For the information. We'll make sure to take it into consideration.”

*

Dan managed to have the door to the cafe open before he noticed the man at the table, and had stepped inside before recognition hit him like a truck on a freeway. “ _Lucifer_?” he balked, striding up to the table in three quick steps. The man before him tensed visibly, hand clenching his cup tightly, but he didn't turn. “'Lu' was it? Of course 'Lu' is Lucifer. Damn, how could I be so blind?”

“To be fair, Detective Espinoza,” Lucifer started, his voice hard. His second hand joined the first in holding the cup, but Dan noticed it shaking as it drifted towards it. What the hell? Lucifer was clearly shaken, but over what? Certainly not the body, considering the self-proclaimed Devil never once seemed bothered by a corpse. “I've been gone a long time and never took to nicknames before.”

“I suppose that's true,” Dan muttered, pulling out a chair. He'd intended to sit across from Lucifer, to make eye contact, but Lucifer quickly turned to not face him, hand still holding his cup.

“Is it just you?” Lucifer pleaded, sounding desperate and hopeful. Dan frowned, pitying the man in a way he really hadn't before, and he'd seen the scars on Lucifer's back. At least in this, Daniel could offer something nice.

“No, Chlo's here too. I can send her in after we're done talking?”

“Please. Don't.”

“Why not?”

“Look, can we just get this whole conversation over? The sooner I can return to my job, the better. And I suspect that involves you talking to me and Miss Lopez finishing up with our corpse, so let's not dawdle and ask your questions.”

“Is everything okay, Lucifer?” Dan couldn't help but wonder. He seemed to be putting up an annoyed front, but it came off as scared, especially when the cup in his hands vibrated so much. “Seriously, what has you spooked?”

“Detective Espinoza,” Lucifer growled. “Please, just ask your questions. You know I won't lie.”

“Fine. Fine. If you don't want to talk about it. Can you tell me what you were doing this morning when the explosion went off?”

“Sleeping. I was actually awoken by the explosion, though I didn't know what had happened at first. I went downstairs and saw a rather large hole in my wall. Naturally, I went to inspect it, only to find the body outside.”

“You didn't call the police?”

“I saw Craig on the phone. I rightfully assumed he had it handled. Instead, I prepared myself to talk to you guys in here.”

“You still should have called Lucifer.”

“Duly noted. Anything else you wish to know?”

“Well, the incident attacked your cafe, as well. While it could just be a coincidence, do you know of anyone with a grudge against you or your place of business?”

Lucifer looked to the ceiling for a moment and then shrugged. “Only really people from before I returned and my stalker. And while the latter is very likely, I've no clue who they could be. They didn't exactly leave a calling card.”

Dan intended to push further on that, but was interrupted by Lucifer standing up abruptly. “Time's up. I have... I have to go. I apologize. For a lot of things, really, Dan.” Lucifer strolled quickly forward and went behind the door labeled “break room,” shutting it with a slam.

“Wait! Lucifer! I wasn't done asking questions!” Dan followed and banged on the door, grumbling when he received no response. Dimly, he could hear talking coming through the hole. Chloe, Ella, and Trent, he supposed. Well, this would be something Chloe would want to know, and perhaps she could get him back out of the room.

This wasn't looking good for Lucifer, though.

*

Ella jumped in surprise as Chloe approached the crime scene. She'd hoped, prayed even, that Chloe and Dan wouldn't be assigned the case, but God clearly had different plans. Oh God, that was weird to think about. Okay, no thinking about it.

“Hi Chloe!” she greeted, smiling brightly. “So how have um... how is Trixie?”

“She's home and resting. What can you tell me about the case?”

“Honestly? The whole thing is a bit unfortunate for our Jane Doe. I've sent in dental records to get a potential ID. Also grabbed a fingerprint from her and the sick message on the side.” Ella gestured to the red stained on the boutique's wall. “To eternity with you. Almost sounds romantic, like wedding vows.”

“Except, they quickly reached the death do us part, bit,” Trent offered, earning him a brief glare from Chloe.

Ella snorted. “Right. Anyway, she may have written the message herself, but if so for what reason? Suicide's an option, but they also could have just as easy taken the corpse and written it, or she could have written it for a different reason and been killed before she could leave. Or she could have not written it at all, I guess, but we'll know for sure once we get back results for the prints.”

“What was the source of the explosion? Do you know?”

“Propane tanks, actually. I guess there was a leak in the little bugger,” Ella explained, moving to show half of a tank, the rest blown to bits in the surrounding area. It'd landed a short distance away from the hole, but there was also a slight covered area where it would have been. “Don't know exactly what triggered it, but my guess is on cigarette. Teenagers have to do risky stuff to be cool, you know?”

“Not really,” Trent replied. “I was a pretty good student.”

“I was a bit busy with other things at the time,” Chloe agreed.

“Boooring,” Ella whined. “Anyway, cause of death is by explosion right now, but I'm throwing her blood back for the sake of testing. Always good to make sure, you know?” The scientist shrugged as she bagged a few items around the area. “Also sending the red stuff back, but first glance? It's paint. Smells like it too. The more concerning part is what we can't see.”

“What we can't see?” Trent questioned and Ella nodded, standing up to grabbing a black light.

“The team sprayed a bit of luminol around, just in case, and this is what we got.” As the light flicked on, the group could see exactly what she meant. Half covered in their current corpse's blood was a glowing pentagram. Words were written roughly where the current message was as well, but the letters to cluttered to fully make out. Whatever had happened her had happened more than once. “Lu asked a couple months ago about cleaning up blood. I'm guessing this was it.”

“You know our suspect?”

“Yeah,” Ella replied as the side door opened and Dan joined them.

“Lucifer is here. It's freaking Lucifer who runs this cafe.”

*

How bloody weak was he, really? Lucifer held his head in his hands, eyes wide open as he stared at the darkness of his own palms, red leaking through due to the light above. His whole body felt numb, cold, and it took every last bit of his strength not to curl up into a ball.

Take in your surroundings, he reminded himself. He left his hands on his face for a few moments, taking in deep breaths. He could smell the coffee, the subtle hint of sugar and sugar substitutes, the dusty scent that presided over every storage room. The ground was cold under him, but in a different way that how his whole being felt. It was also hard. Sounds...

He avoided sounds, pulling his hands away at last and looking into the fluorescent bulbs above, flinching suddenly at his all-too-human eyes and let out a bitter laugh. Still very, very vulnerable around the Detective, it seemed. The room was the same but he took account of it anyway. Boxes, couch, more boxes, light. Darkness wasn't overwhelming him, which was a good thing.

Seeing Daniel, or hearing him rather, had been jarring but he'd prepared himself for worse so he'd handled it, keeping the nightmares at bay for a short stint at least. All of that came crumbling down when he heard Chloe's voice through the wall, that damned hole making it so much easier to hear that 'down to business' tone of hers. Memories of their work warred with memories of his loop.

So he ran. Collected himself slowly but surely. He had something important to tell the police, after all. A hand absently reached into his pocket, pulling out two items. The first was evidence, something he probably shouldn't have picked up but it was far too late for that now. The other was his phone, the old one. He opened it, the same page open as it always had been. Muttering the words to himself, he tried to assure himself that Chloe wouldn't be there to banish him to Hell, to condemn him.

Except, he'd hurt her spawn. He'd caused significant damage to the person she cared about the most. Beatrice was important to him and he was angry at himself for what he'd done, but 'Hell hath no fury' and whatnot. If that applied to anyone, the Detective would be it.

“No you're not. Not to me.”

She'd spoken those words. Sure it was in a dream, but if she still thought it as such then all the more reason to be honest. Clutching the phone to his chest, he tried to hold onto that hope, tried desperately not to fall into despair. There was work to be done, and justice needed to be dealt to the guilty.

A slow breath and then one more for good measure. Lucifer stood up and opened the door again, clutching the small bit of evidence he had. He could hear them talking and almost retreated again at the sound of his friends, but steady steps allowed him to make it to the side door, currently open and filled with a new human-shaped door apparently.

“So you guys all know the suspect?”

“It's a bit more complicated than that, but he's not our suspect yet. We don't know for sure,” Chloe argued on his behalf, making the pain in his chest stronger for far too many reasons.

“There's too little information so far!” Ella agreed. “I mean, we don't even know who the victim is yet!”

Lucifer cleared his throat, making Dan jump and almost fall into the alley in surprise. Lucifer stepped out into the alley at the same time, eyes locked deliberately on the ground and hand on the frame to prevent it from closing, allowing him an easy escape.

“Lucifer,” Chloe said, her voice barely a whisper. He couldn't tell if she was happy or dismayed at his appearance. He refused to see her face, hand on the frame gripping tightly enough that he could hear the wood splintering.

“I may be...” His voice faltered and he restarted. “I may be able to help you with that bit.” His empty hand thrust forward, slick black wallet with an embroidered flower on it. Someone took the wallet, but Lucifer explained anyway. “Her name was Sarah. And she didn't deserve this.”


	22. She didn't have to die

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vague realization I've now been at this story for two months! Yay story! Yay for all of you reading and loving my story!
> 
> Also, how much of a social faux pa is it to make a recommendation here? Bad? Probably. Well, I'm making one anyway. Just a short one, because I cannot stop enjoyiing it. If you like angsty problems and broken Lucifers, I recommend Caging the Devil by Hircine_Taoist (some of my readers already read it! I see you in the comment section!). It's more physical pain than emotional pain, though you get a healthy dose of both. Author updates pretty darn frequently too.
> 
> I really need to get a twitter or tumblr so I can just rant with fellow Lucifans. Anywho, here's the chapter!

.Chloe had anticipated having to see Lucifer sooner or later, though she wasn't sure which she preferred. However, upon finally coming face to face with the man who plagued her dreams and worried her endlessly, the first though that ran through her head was that he looked like Hell. Not the "demonic, red-eyed, terrifying" type of Hell that made him Satan, but the "I've stayed up seven days straight while recovering from a severe drug addiction" kind of Hell. His hair was a mess; he wore a button up shirt that, though of obviously fine quality, was far more dressed down than she was used to and only halfway buttoned. Worse was that he stared at the ground or the wall or anywhere other than the four of them. It was unnerving. Lucifer was known for holding eye contact for longer than was socially acceptable, never blinking and always with a mischievous glint in his eye. She'd assumed it had to do with his "desire mojo."

Her heart thrummed sympathetically as he held out a wallet, which Ella took politely. Regret was painted so clearly in his emotions that Chloe recalled her daughter's words: "he's going to blame himself enough for this." There was no doubt about that. It was etched into his very being right then, and not just for injuring Trixie but for so much more, like he was Atlas carrying the world and all its sins. Like despite his proclamations at the beginning of their partnership that he wasn't to blame for people's wrongdoings, he didn't actually believe that.

So focused on trying to figure out her former partner, Chloe almost missed his words as Ella flipped open the wallet. "Her name was Sarah. And she didn't deserve this."

Decker choked slightly, feeling cold. "Sarah, as in Trixie's friend?" she clarified. Lucifer _flinched_. It was a small gesture, probably only noticeable as Chloe couldn't stop staring, but it was there.

"The very same. I found her wallet just inside the cafe, by the delightful new entrance that just opened up," Lucifer said, a faux teasing tone in his voice.

"Not to be rude, but her wallet being there doesn't mean she's the victim. It could've been there from before," Ella countered, handing the wallet off to her forensic coworkers anyway.

Lucifer sniffed. "You saying I wouldn't have noticed it earlier?"

"Probably not." Ella raised an eyebrow at Chloe, as if she had something to add but the detective simply shook her head.

"Believe what you will, Miss Lopez. You're welcome to waste time confirming the facts, but in the mean time, I have my own objectives."

"Wait!" Trent called out, stepping forward and grabbing Lucifer's wrist. With a frown on his face, Lucifer turned back to the officer ever so slowly. Brown eyes finally lifted, disapproval now at the forefront as he made eye contact at last with one of them, the one he probably didn't know.

"Can I help you, Officer?" Lucifer questioned, each word clipped as he scowled. This time it was Trent who flinched, jolting his hand back.

"You're a suspect, the _primary_ suspect. You can't just walk off!"

"Do you plan on arresting me now? Have probably cause or whatnot?" Lucifer hissed. "If not, I kindly suggest you not claim what I can or cannot do."

"Lucifer, please," Chloe interjected. "Don't be reckless." That statement, before at least, was like asking the ocean to stand still, the sun not to rise. Now, though, Lucifer's expression softened and the pain returned. He huffed out a breath and then took a deliberate, slow breath. Then another.

Rubbing a hand over his face and turning his eyes skyward, Lucifer nodded sharply. "Fine. Fine. For now. But I do plan on being involved in finding her killer. If there's one thing I've always been good at, it's bringing evil to justice." More quietly he added "and for what it's worth, you have my word that I didn't do this. As far as I know, I had no involvement in young Sarah's death."

Something heavy lifted off Chloe's shoulders, something she hadn't noticed. She hadn't noticed she had worried about that exact issue, until Lucifer denied it outright. Lucifer didn't lie. Even if evidence pointed to the contrary, Chloe knew he wasn't the culprit. Now, she'd just have to prove it.

"Hey guys, found something interesting over here!" Ella called, having wandered a bit away with Daniel when they were beckoned by another officer. Carefully, the scientist photographed something small and clearly glass. It was a bit outside of the alley, but the explosion could have sent it flying. Even shattered, though, it was easy to identify: a syringe.

"Think you could get a sample of what was inside it?" Dan questioned.

Ella hummed. "I can try, at least. I'm glad I sent the blood work back, though. Unless, this is one of yours Lucifer?" She glanced up and frowned. "Lucifer?"

"He went back in the cafe," Trent stated, frown on his face. "Which is good, because I need to warn you guys not to be too gentle. I get it, he's a friend, but he's also incredibly suspicious right now."

"I don't think Lucifer did it," Ella mumbled. Chloe agreed, though she didn't verbalize it.

"That's exactly my point, Ella," Trent groaned. "To make things worse, he used to work with the LAPD, so he knows how we function better than the average person. A clever person is dangerous, one that knows specifics on how people investigate crime even more so."

"Wouldn't that actually be an argument of defense for him?" Dan questioned, folding his arms in front of him as he considered it. "I mean, not one that'd hold up in court, but if Lucifer is so clever then why was he so quickly identified leaving the scene? Why have someone die right next to his cafe where he'd immediately come under suspicion? I don't disagree that we can't just take his word for it, but I also think that your line of reasoning is off, Trent."

"Whatever, just don't give him a pass because you know him, please," Trent growled. "If you really believe in your friend, then have faith that he didn't do it and the evidence will clear him."

"See, that? I agree with that," Dan stated. "Though, there was a time that he was framed rather well, so I can't say for sure that we can only rely on evidence."

"We'll figure it out. Honestly, the sooner we can clear Lucifer's name, the better." Chloe understood the bias in her statement, but didn't care. "Lucifer is calm for now, but eventually he'll want to track down whoever did this. Better we take him under our wing so that he at least does things by the books. Or close to the books."

"I don't know, Chlo," Dan said. "Lucifer doesn't look like he's exactly prepared to fight for justice or whatever, right now. Before? Yeah, he was a loose cannon at best. Now, though? I don't know, he just seems..."

"Less? Like his wings were clipped?" Ella suggested.

"Exactly. Like he's too weighed down by something to put his all into screwing things up."

Chloe shook her head slowly. Didn't they see that was exactly when he became worse? When he was last framed, angry at Chloe for not trusting him, he'd gone about trying to hunt down Malcolm himself. He'd even sided with his brother, who at the time he hadn't gotten along with. And then there was the Sinnerman incident, all of them, she supposed. This seemed worse, but that just made Chloe more certain that they needed to help him even faster.

*

Trixie whined at her phone as the alarm went off. She rolled over awkwardly, body hampered by the cast on her arm, and scrambled for the phone. It stopped ringing before she could dismiss it and she groaned at it again, realizing it'd just go off in a few minutes again unless she put forth more mental fortitude than she was willing. All she wanted to do was go back to sleep, though she knew that wasn't going to happen. A slow, creeping pain was moving back into her injured limb and sleep had caused her to miss the time for her medication.

Slowly, the teen pushed herself up with one arm. "Mom?" she called out, hoping to get a bit of help as she climbed out of bed. That the word came out slurred by sleep and medicine didn't matter, her mother understood sleepy teen. However, no response came. She inched her way out of the room, a bit bleary as she made the short trip to the table where a note, a glass with pitcher of iced water, and her pill bottle sat. Trix read the note as she poured with one arm.

"Monkey, your Dad and I have a case. If you need anything, call me and I'll be home immediately. Or your dad will. I've already called the school, so you can just rest. Stay home and stay safe. I'll contact you later. Love you."

Trixie groaned as she tossed a couple pills in her mouth and drowned them with water. Great, she'd be bored all day, assuming she didn't sleep it all away. She should contact Lucifer, Maze, and the club, let them know she was fine, but the idea of more sleep sounded too inviting. So, she started her trek back to bed. Halfway there, however, she had to reverse as a sharp banging on the door demanded her attention.

"Coming, coming," she slurred as the knocking got angrier. By the time she reached the door, her visitor was shaking the entire door with their slamming, making the walls vibrate in reply.

Maze shoved her way into the apartment the moment the doors opened, scowl on her face. "About time! I was about to break the door down!"

"What stopped you?" Trixie giggled, aware that her brain wasn't firing on all cylinders.

"I didn't want to deal with an angry Decker again if unnecessary. Lucifer said it's only a _possibility_ you're in danger." Maze growled in frustration.

"Danger?" Trixie questioned.

"Yeah, Sa--someone was found dead outside of the cafe. Lucifer called me, said that your mom and dad were investigating it but wanted me to keep an eye on you." Maze crossed her arms, tapping one finger on her elbow. "I wouldn't listen to him, but if there's any risk to you..."

Trixie giggled again. "Well, I'm happy for the company. We should watch some movies then." She didn't feel the energy for much more than that. At Maze's confused frown, Trixie realized she was probably incoherent now, slurring as the medication was creeping into effect. She gestured her head to her mom's makeshift bed and then at the T.V. with her good arm.

"Ah, yeah. Another round of Evil Dead?"

"Soun'sgoo," Trixie mumbled, trudging to the couch. Her eyes were closed and she was asleep before Maze even managed to get the DVD in.

Her dreams were a weird amalgamation of her friends fighting zombies with Lucifer somehow getting a chainsaw hand until Chloe scolded him for acting like a child and he dejectedly took the mechanical limb off.

*

Lucifer didn't leave the cafe again until he heard a small commotion outside. Shoving his phone into his pocket in case Maze called, the Devil stepped outside, eyes above the heads of police so he didn't accidentally focus on his friends. There were a couple of officers at the yellow tape holding back a worried and familiar teenager. Christian wasn't pushing his way through, exactly, but he kept leaning to the side and forward to try and see over the police, making them nervous he was going to attempt to bolt past them.

When Christian spotted Lucifer in front of the cafe, he visibly relaxed. Sighing, Lucifer strolled over, fully aware of a certain someone following from behind. "Christian," he greeted as he stood a comfortable distance behind the police.

"Lu! Thank God. You're okay."

Lucifer rolled his eyes at the use of his father's name. "I am. Was that all you were worried about? If so, you should leave. A crime scene is no place for a child."

"I'm almost eighteen, Lu. I'm hardly a child. But if you're not the one hurt, what happened?" Christian glanced around as if trying to spot the problem.

Another pang of guilt, one just adding to the thousand he already suffered, rang through him as he realized what brought Christian here, outside of potential job opportunity. The part time worker was visibly holding himself back from trying to comfort the Devil. He thought that Lu needed support, needed someone to help hold back the nightmares and prevent the Devil from doing something he'd be unable to take back. Just because there was a bit of truth behind his thoughts didn't mean it didn't anger Lucifer. Why was everyone so damned determined to pity him instead of being angry at what he'd done? _He wasn't a weakling. He was the goddamned Devil._

The feel of a hand on his shoulder had him jumping far to side, eyes wide as his emotions shifted from angry to panicked sharply enough to make him nauseous. He briefly made eye contact with the woman behind him, blue eyes wide with worry. His breath caught and he turned away, hand tugging at his hair wildly. When he resumed breathing it came out short and shallow.

"Lu, Lu, hey," Christian said, the teen suddenly much closer. He must have convinced the officers to let him through when Lucifer started panicking. Or Chloe convinced him. "Can you hear me?"

Lucifer nodded and listened as Christian guided him through the attack. It was words he'd heard a hundred times, had as a mantra in his head, but still needed to be reminded when he lost his grip with reality. He closed his eyes briefly, a flash of blue irises surprisingly welcome as Christian calmly instructed Lucifer to breath slowly and take in his surroundings. When the Devil opened his eyes again, for a brief moment the blue turned into a bright pulsing light before his vision settled back to normal.

"You good, now? You okay?" Christian asked.

"I'm fine," Lucifer grumbled, his voice hoarse as if he'd been screaming. It still felt, vaguely, like dust clogged it but that was as far as he'd taken in his trip back to Hell this time. He'd take it.

"A panic attack?" Chloe questioned, worried. Lucifer turned in her direction, staring at her feet.

"Um. Yeah. Sorry," Christian answered. "It's kind of why he keeps me around. I have experience with this kind of stuff."

"You're trained to handle PTSD?"

"Yeah. My dad's a war vet. As is my best friend's dad."

"What do you know... Um what do you know about Lucifer's...?"

"I'm right here, Detective," Lucifer mumbled bitterly. He heard Chloe laugh, though it was a short, angry laugh, one obviously annoyed at Lucifer's antics and the Devil hated how much he loved the sound, eyes still on her strictly-functional boots.

"Right, because you are likely to tell me," Chloe retorted.

"I mean, if Lu doesn't want you to know, I shouldn't say anything," Christian whispered.

Ignoring the teen, Lucifer rolled his eyes, trying not to look nervous. "I'm quite positive that you know more than he does, Detective."

"I know absolutely _nothing_ , Lucifer, because all of you seem determined to cut me out of your life!"

"You're not that daft, Detective. You should be able to piece things together better than that," Lucifer growled, fidgeting. Did he really have to spell it out? What she saw last night? "If not, then I doubt Christian's bit of information will really help."

"Don't be an ass, Lucifer. You've told me nothing. Your _brother_ was more helpful."

"Didn't have to tell you," the Devil snapped, turning to Christian with disbelief on his face. "You _saw_ it. At least part of it." He said the last statement quietly and felt only vague satisfaction at winning the argument when Chloe went silent.

"Um, what?" Christian glanced between the two, completely lost.

"The dreams were real," Chloe said.

"Well, not exactly, but there was truth in them," Lucifer stated with a sniff. He itched to get out of there, keeping his eyes on his employee as a stabilizing force. How he wished Beatrice was there, though. She was a lot more comforting for him. But no, he probably would never see her again.

"Lucifer," Chloe hushed, concern painting her voice and, likely, her face. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw he make an aborted gesture to reach out to him.

"Don't pity me, Detective," Lucifer replied. He'd intended to snap the words, dismiss her concern, but instead he sounded as if he was pleading with her.

There was a long pause between the three of them, where the only sound was of the investigation going on around them. Finally, Decker sighed heavily. "Okay, can you two go back to the cafe for now? I'll... I'll send Trent in to talk to you both. If you're right about Sarah, then we need to interview her friends anyway."

"Wait, what happened to Sarah?" Christian asked and the sharp gasp from Chloe was evidence that she hadn't been thinking before she spoke. A rarity. Lucifer tried not to dwell on it.

"He'd have to find out eventually, Detective," Lucifer soothed, without looking back at her. To Christian, he gestured to the cafe. "Come on, we'll talk in the cafe."

"What happened to Sarah?" Christian repeated, eyes wide.

"We're not completely sure," Lucifer explained. "But there's a very high chance that she was murdered this morning."

*

Trixie woke up some time during the movie 300, blinking away sleep slowly as she sat up. Maze, munching on popcorn and cheering on the violence, nodded at her and then to her phone which was buzzing. The teenager lifted her phone and squinted at the bright screen. It was already after noon and she'd missed both calls from her mother and there were several texts from the rest of the club. Over seventy from that group alone, along with a dozen or so more messages sent more privately.

Mouth full of corn, Maze commented "Your Mom called me after you didn't pick up. I told her you were sleeping. She said to tell you to call back when you woke up."

Trix wasn't really listening, scrolling through her phone with increased dismay. Apparently, the rest of the club had been called in for statements in a case. Each and every one of them was scared. Because Sarah had been killed and Lu was suspect number one.

"I have to go," Trixie stammered, sitting up and swaying when a sharp wave of pain attacked.

"Woah, there, Trix. If this is about the case, you can wait. You have an alibi anyway, so the most you can do is provide statements. I mean, that's all the others are doing from what I've heard, but you're so far off the suspect list that they're worried for your health over your testimony." Maze pushed Trixie back, but the teen persisted.

"Lucifer was arrested!" Trixie snapped at the demon.

"No, not yet at least. There's not enough evidence to blame him, though it'd not looking pretty," Maze replied, rolling her eyes.

"You're not worried?"

"Why would I be worried? He gets arrested, then he can just leave. Go back to Hell again, or whatever. Your prison can only hold him so long as he lets them."

"You're okay with him just leaving? Again?!" Trixie couldn't believe her ears. Maze rolled her eyes again.

"No, of course not, but 'A', I can just follow him so long as he doesn't go back to Hell. Or even then, I'll just ask Rae or Amenadiel. 'B', he didn't do it so I doubt he'll be arrested in the end anyway. And 'C', and this is the most important one, Chloe is on his side. Despite what they all went through, she told me she was working to clear his name. Even I have to admit your mother is a damned good detective. So relax. You'll give your testimony or whatever later. Rushing to the precinct won't change a thing."

Trixie leveled the demon with a glare, a smirk appearing on Maze's face for the sheer audacity. "How about I make you a deal?"

"Deals are Lucifer's thing."

"And they're mine now too," Trixie retorted, sticking out her tongue. Maze laughed.

"Fine, fine little Devil, what's the deal?"

"If I can stay awake for half an hour without complaining about being sleepy or in pain, you take me to the precinct."

"Two hours."

"One. Or til the end of the movie, which looks like fifty minutes. That way you don't have to start a new movie and stop in the middle."

"Good point. Deal."

*

The Devil's Advocacy Club was entirely accounted for except two distinct missing members. One was the person Lucifer wanted to see more than anything, though he didn't say anything as he sat as casually as possible at the table. The other was gone permanently. Both Lucifer couldn't help but feel guilty about.

His involvement with Trixie's absence was much more obvious, Lucifer admitted. However, he couldn't help but wonder what he'd done to get Sarah killed. Her death was a more disastrous version of the 'sacrifices' he'd received for a short period of time. He'd never reported them and they'd eventually stopped, but what if it was because they were preparing for a bigger attack? Had his fear of Chloe getting involved, his selfish desire to keep her at a distance, endangered the teens? Killed Sarah? It hurt to consider. Even more so when he looked to the others in the room.

Christian was pale, but managing through the shock and grief to hold the others together. Jesus seemed lost, like he wasn't fully comprehending what he'd been told. Noah seemed angry and Maryann and Esther were bawling messes. They were each representing a stage of grief, if one coupled bargaining with depression Lucifer supposed. It hurt to see, and Lucifer kept his distance as a result. He was, after all, still the primary suspect and he didn't want to make things worse.

Maryann had different plans, however. When she pulled her hands away from her face, she locked dark eyes with Lucifer, frown turning angry as she stormed up to the Devil and punched him as hard as she could in the chest. Even with the Detective nearby, it didn't hurt much, no real force behind the effort.

"Why didn't you help her?" she pleaded. "Why didn't you heal her? Save her?"

"What?" Lucifer questioned, completely baffled.

"Maryann, it's not his fault," Christian soothed, patting her shoulder and trying to pull her into a hug. She tugged out of his grip, eyes red and face stained with tears as she began to beat on Lu's chest.

"No! It is! He could have saved her. You can heal people! I know you can!"

"Who on Earth told you that?" Lucifer asked, trying to pull back.

"Can't you?" Esther whispered, hiccuping slightly as she stared at Lucifer with accusation.

"You're an _angel_! Angels can heal people! It says so in scripture or whatever! Like how Jesus did!" Maryann explained, voice bordering on hysteria.

"I'm the _Devil_ , Maryann."

"The Devil is just a fallen angel! And don't say you can't." Maryann stopped her rant as she fell into a coughing and hiccuping mess for a few moments. When she composed herself again, she shoved him hard, nearly toppling him out of the chair. "You healed Trixie's mom already!"

"How did you--"

"Maryann! Cut it out!" Christian snapped, pushing the teenager away as officers started to approach at the sound of an argument.

"He could have saved her, Christian! He could have saved Sarah's life! She didn't have to die!"

Lucifer felt cold. How did she know about him healing Chloe? Better yet, when did she start believing his claim he was the Devil? He glanced at the rest of the group, Esther still just staring and demanding answers to Maryann's questions. Noah, Lucifer realized, was angry at _him_. Jesus was just lost.

The panicked breaths came back and Lucifer hated himself for letting this get to him. He hardly knew the kids! Four or so months, only! But their opinon of him did matter and, worse yet, he was worried they were right. Could he have saved Sarah? Esther's accusing glare condemned him without words and he could only let out a weak defense, hands shaking as he backed away from the group."She was already dead by the time I saw her. She... I..." Lucifer glanced at Maryann and Christian, who were being separated from the group for arguing. Was it his fault? Even if he couldn't heal her, could he have prevented the whole incident in the first place?

*

"So get this," Ella explained, shoving papers into Chloe's chest. Chloe glanced at them, skimming the words as the enthusiastic nerd spoke. "I was right about sending the blood work back. Not that I really doubted it considering the syringe we found. Couldn't get anything off of that by the way. Or not enough to sample it, but I think if we go looking for this baby then we'll be in business." She tapped a the screen dramatically.

Dan squinted at it. "Tubocurarine Chloride?"

"Also known as arrow's poison. It's an anesthetic, too. Has all kinds of crazy history. In small doses, it's fine. It's like a slow, temporary paralysis. In larger doses, though? Ick, that paralysis can be scary. It's like suffocating while being completely unable to move. Kind of like how I imagine being buried alive might be, minus all the feel of the dirt."

"So Sarah was poisoned? Suffocated essentially?" Dan suggested. "Then someone set off an explosion to cover it up?"

"Nope," Ella popped, smacking her lips. "She was likely drugged and dropped off there, outside. The explosion was what killed her. We have fire specialists out there now figuring out the source of ignition, but their initial idea is still match or cigarette, something that burned up quickly. There's evidence of tobacco use, but considering the owner that doesn't tell us anything."

"How long does it take for this drug to take effect?" Trent asked.

"As little as 45 seconds for the effects to start, but it slowly works it's way through everything and can take five minutes to fully paralyze a victim."

"Who could get tubocurarine?" Dan persisted.

"Well, anyone with a medical license. It's not really a restricted drug, since it doesn't exactly bring about a kind of 'high' that addicts go for and it's quite helpful, though less commonly used than before."

"This doesn't really give us any leads, though. Your buddy could have gotten them from someone and no one would be the wiser. Working out of cafe with an alley _covered_ in blood? It's not looking good," Trent groaned.

"No," Chloe whispered. "It does tell us one thing. Sarah was definitely murdered. There's no way this was a suicide."

"And it looks like either the killer set this up to frame Lucifer or..." Dan began, waving a hand as if the other option was just incomprehensible.

"Offering it up as a sacrifice for the 'Devil?" Trent added.

"Either way, there's no doubt Lucifer is involved," Chloe finished.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All my lessons on poison were actually from Virtue's Last Reward, an escape room game. Originally was going to go with soporil but A) that doesn't actually exist apparently and b) it's never used lethally even in the series. So, arrow's poison it is.


	23. Officer Michael Trent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  ** _I'm putting a "mentions of suicide" warning here_** just in case that bothers you. Mostly just talked about, no detail gone into, but I wanna play safe. I'll put a tag up for it soon.
> 
> Thank you again for you fantastic support and welcome new readers! I'm excited to hear from all of you, new, old, and somewhere in between!

They'd decided to break for lunch, an hour to check on a few things before taking statements. Trent also had a something to take care of and apparently a couple of the teens needed some time to calm down. When they'd resume, Chloe was to talk to the two girls with Trent handling Lucifer and Noah and Dan with the remaining two.

Oh how badly Chloe wanted to be the one to interview Lucifer. For one, she knew him best, knew how he dodged questions and hid facts. And two, she was positive he had no involvement in the murder and talking to him could help prove that. Dan, she suspected, was in agreement with her, or at least leaned towards that conclusion. Trent seemed to be on the fence, or worse actually thought Lucifer did it. But there wasn't anything the detectives could do, not if they wanted answers any time soon.

Stepping out of the forensics room, though, she spotted Lucifer sitting at an empty desk, head buried in his hands. Concerned, Chloe's feet brought her before the Devil before she could fully process it, stopping only when she was close enough that he flinched. It tore at her heart, how incredibly aware of her presence he seemed to be and how much that seemed to bother him. What had happened? She had tiny bits of information--his brother, the destroyed landscape beyond--but not enough. Not nearly enough.

"Would you be okay if I sat here?"

"Not really, no," Lucifer mumbled into his palms.

Sighing, she tugged out a chair and leaned against it. "Can I anyway?"

"I'd rather you not," Lucifer confessed, pulling his hands down and frowning. 

When she pulled the chair beside his and sat in it anyway, though, Chloe swore she saw a ghost of a smile flicker across his face. They stayed in silence for a little while, Lucifer looking anywhere but at her. The detective stole glances at the man, trying to find all that had changed in him like one of those "find the difference" puzzles in the newspaper, but she only had her memory of the former picture to compare it too.

"I missed you, you know," Chloe said at last. Lucifer snorted slightly and the detective frowned. "I'm serious. I felt terrible about what I'd done. Maze told me you went back to Hell and we kept waiting, wondering if you were going to come back the next day as if nothing had happened."

"I didn't mean to--"

"I'm not asking for an apology. I understand why you left." Chloe closed her eyes, the image of that nightmare still easy to conjure up, but it was now a familiar horror and it was so easy to superimpose her partner over it. "I just wanted you to know that we still care about you, Lucifer. You're still our friend. And I'm sorry for how I reacted."

Lucifer didn't reply for a moment, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a cell phone. He smiled at it fondly, though pain still lingered in the expression, and nodded. "I'm aware. I got your message."

"My phone!" she exclaimed.

"I'm quite certain it's my phone," Lucifer teased, snorting slightly as he hid the phone again. It was such a normal tone that Chloe nudged him for it, only to receive Lucifer tensing up again.

When did he get the phone anyway? Oh Trixie that little...

No wait. Chloe stared at the man before her, realization dawning on her as that last piece of information slotted into place. It was too much of a coincidence. The time that he'd returned, her miraculous recovery, Trixie's _feather necklace_ , Chloe's habit of regenerating via night light, and finally the day that her phone went missing. In hindsight, it was so obvious that she wasn't sure how she didn't figure it out sooner. She'd even heard Maze's tale of helping Amenadiel with a feather.

"You healed me," Chloe whispered. "You saved my life."

Even from their positions, Lucifer's face tilted slightly away to stare at the wall of family pictures over her, she could see his eyes widen. Clenched fists rested in his lap, the knuckles white. "Don't. Please."

Chloe acted like she didn't hear him, studying the man who, despite being unable to see her had taken the time to stop the worst part of her life, restore her. Consequences be damned, and if said consequences involved instantly healing stomach wounds she wasn't going to complain. "Lucifer, I... You saved my life," she repeated, still slightly shocked. "You saved Trixie from having to live without a mother, Dan from having to raise her alone, my mother from losing a daughter, and so much more."

"Please," he repeated, sounding pained. His eyes were closed, now, and he was breathing deeply, in obviously controlled and counted breaths.

He wanted her to drop the subject, to leave him alone. But she'd done that for so long already and what was the result? Her daughter was injured, a teen was dead, and they weren't any closer to returning to normal. Chloe lifted a hand, brushing his cheek and smiling at the familiar sensation of the stubble. Almost against his will, he leaned into the gesture, still shaking. "Lucifer," she hushed, putting as much emotion into her words as possible. "Thank you."

One of his hands raised to grip hers, holding it to his face for a moment. Slowly he opened his eyes, brown eyes wet with unshed tears as he locked into her blue eyes with the intensity she'd associated with him for so long. Her soul stirred, longed to soothe the pain that still remained in her partner. Like this, connected in with their emotions strong, it was so easy to lean into him, to kiss him and renew a memory faded with time and trauma.

But she held back, knowing he didn't need anything right now other than a friend, someone who could appreciate him for who he was, what he did. Someone who knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that the Devil wasn't evil. Nor was he unbreakable.

The moment was broken when an officer called to them, gesturing to the rooms. "They're ready for you Detective Decker," the man said, pulling two pairs of eyes to him.

"Oh, uh, okay. I'll be right there," Chloe said, fidgeting as she collected herself again, torn between wanting to stay and being responsible. She turned back to Lucifer, who hadn't quite retreated back to his previous state either, eyes on her though not making contact with her own. "I guess I'll... Uh..."

"Go, Detective," Lucifer whispered, his voice raw as if he'd been screaming. "We'll talk later."

That was good enough for her. For now at least.

*

Carmen groaned as he buried his head into the pile of paperwork. "Dead?" he asked in disbelief, staring at his second in command. The man nodded slowly, munching on a sandwich--one of the pre-made ones from his work.

"Accidentally exploded apparently. Not that the poison wouldn't have done it's job too. It hadn't worked its way through her system, though. Or something, didn't come up as a full dose. Perhaps she didn't take it all."

"Don't talk with your mouthful!' Carmen scolded before standing up and pulling out a few files. He tugged out one with Sarah's picture on it. It was thin as he had little information on her and she hadn't been a part of their group for very long. Three more folders came along with it and he stared at them, wondering if they were compromised as a result.

"All's not lost," his right had continued after swallowing. Carmen raised an eyebrow as he turned to the man. " In fact, things might actually be in our favor. For one, my group's been assigned the case involving her murder. For two, Lucifer is the prime suspect."

"I doubt Chloe Decker would stand for that, being his lover," Carmen hissed, trying to keep the jealousy out of his voice.

"I'm sure she wouldn't, if she was able to talk to him. As it stands, I've been given the role of interviewing him."

"Why? Why couldn't she talk to him?" Did this have anything to do with the odd behavior he heard about from the Devil? Or perhaps she was angry at him for leaving her. He couldn't blame her for that last one.

"I don't know the specifics, but he freaks out when he's around her. Or Dan, for that matter. Miss Lopez I think is fine sometimes, but as a whole Lucifer has put a significant gap between him and his police friends."

"I see. This could definitely be helpful, then. We'll have to figure out how to go forward, I guess, with this change in plans. Are the others still usable?"

"More so than ever. They loathe him, think he let her die on purpose, and I don't plan on convincing them otherwise." Carmen's vice president turned to leave, stopping at the doorway briefly as he recalled a last bit of information. "Ah, it appears Lucifer can't revive people after death, so keep that in mind too."

"Well, I don't plan on dying, but thank you, Michael."

"Don't mention it. I'm happy just torturing the bastard. I'll get you your immortality first, though. Before I completely break him."

*

Exhausted, Chloe stepped out of the interview room to let Esther quietly sob. Maryann rushed in after, and the detective didn't interfere. They'd both been interviewed and neither had much to add. She visited the cafe often, admired Lucifer and had enemies at school but none they thought would kill her. They'd added extra details, as well, such as Lucifer's influence while he openly smoked or drank and his violence. It sounded as if they thought he'd done it, or at least inspired someone to do it and Chloe's stomach turned. These girls were Trixie's friends and supposedly Lucifer's support, but so quickly were they to condemn the Devil for the horrible event. Was it always like this for him?

Consumed in her thoughts, she didn't notice Lucifer at her desk until she'd almost bumped into him leaning against it. Both jumped and Lucifer quickly stepped away, fidgeting with his coat and eyes glancing around. He seemed to be mouthing something as well, but Chloe was no lipreader. "Lucifer?"

"Ah, yes, Detective," Lucifer rambled, a quick nervous grin as he stared pointedly at the wanted board instead of her. "I'm sorry to bother you, but I had to ask something incredibly important after our last... Talk."

"Okay. Okay. I'm here. What's up?"

"Well, in my absence, what all did you find out? About me, I mean. And all things celestial and infernal."

Chloe frowned, thinking back to her numerous discussions with Linda and Maze. "A fair bit. I asked a lot of questions and most of them got answered about you, your abilities, how I fit in, and what happened without my knowing."

"Mm, I see. So did they tell you about..." He trailed off momentarily, aborting that line of questioning and picking up another one. "Professor Carlisle?"

"Carlisle?" Decker drudged up the memory of the man, an egoist with a penchant for making people harm themselves to save strangers. And, of course, someone who poisoned her. One of her many near fatal encounters on the job, but the team helped. Especially... "You mean how you died to get the antidote?"

"Ah, yes, that's what I meant."

"Lucifer, if you need a thank y--"

"No, I'm not here to talk heroics. Going to Hell isn't _that_ big of a deal, most of the time. A minor inconvenience, really. I just wanted to know if you knew what happened down there."

"Not at all. Linda said they struggled to bring you back for a few moments, that your mom had to go down to get you." Which still threw Chloe for a loop, separating Lucifer's "Mum" from Charlotte.

"Yes. She and I got caught in a loop. I had to drag her out of it once she broke me free."

"Carlisle's?"

"No." Lucifer stared down at his feet. He was clearly trying to explain something and struggling. His face strained with impatience, desperation, and guilt. Little bread crumbs leaving a trail that he needed Chloe to pick up and she wanted to, but the path hadn't quite made it home yet. Instead, she was silent as he worked up the courage to continue. Finally, after a deep breath, he lifted his eyes up to stare at one of the lights on the ceiling. The bulb flickered in its feeble attempt to hold onto life and would likely need to be replaced soon. The angel seemed transfixed by it. "What do you know of Uriel?"

Uriel. His brother. The man who tried to force Lucifer between his mother and Chloe. To save them both, Lucifer ended Uriel's life with a blade that completely destroyed angels, or something. It tore Lucifer apart, enough that he tried to end his life via sniper and finally caved in and revealed himself to Linda. Chloe couldn't imagine having to kill her own family member, even estranged.

"Did he end up in Hell?" she reasoned.

"No. Well, yes, but not like how you imagine," Lucifer replied, laughing bitterly at himself. He was shaking slightly as he spoke and trying his best not to pace in the limited space. This clearly took effort, but he was trying. "You see, he exists as a manifestation in _my_ Hell Loop. Back then, when Carlisle died and again when--"

"Lucifer, come on back here," Trent called as he stepped out of his own interrogation room, letting Noah exit. The boy had finally moved onto sorrow, made obvious by the red eyes and tear stains onhis cheeks.

"Damn it," Lucifer muttered. "Bloody Hell." Chloe had to agree. He had been getting through it, like a damn that'd burst open, but the interruption had him carefully putting his walls back up as he took steady breaths and measured steps to the room.

"Lucifer!" Chloe beckoned. The Devil didn't turn around, but he did stop, tilting his head in acknowledgement. "We'll talk later, okay?" A nervous smile appeared on his face.

"Well, I'll try, anyway," he said, entering the room Trent occupied.

*

Trixie was, of course, asleep before twenty minutes past. Honestly, even that much was impressive, but Maze wasn't surprised. The girl was so transparently tired that even Maze could tell her reaction to hearing of Sarah's death was off. The demon wasn't one for sentimentality, but she'd been on Earth long enough to know most people don't try to bring the cavalry when their friend is announced dead. Some, but not most and definitely not fifteen year old sweethearts with broken arms.

Still, something did have to be done to help them, even if Maze hated that she had to do it. She pulled out her phone during a lull in her violence and sent a message to the Tribe. "Meetup at the penthouse tonight. Be there or else. We're talking Lucifer." Something the arrogant bastard would no doubt appreciate out of context and hate in it.

She also messaged two more people, or angels rather, knowing they'd need the whole gang. Lucifer was an ass asking them to keep silent and, now that others were getting hurt around him, they needed to talk more than ever.

Ella, Linda, and Amenadiel answered immediately, with Ella promising to bring Chloe. That just left Rae, and Maze was okay with that.

Satisfied that something was actually getting done, the demon put her phone away and then curled up around the teen next to her, drifting off for a well deserved nap.

*

Deep breaths, deep breaths.

The key thing to remember was that, above all else, Lucifer wanted to appear charming. He wouldn't outright harm someone unprovoked. Trent certainly expected to provoke him, too, but even then he'd seen Lucifer's worse, that red mangled monster that lurked under the skin. Unless the Devil decided to reveal himself to all of LAPD, Trent would be fine.Maybe a bit hurt, but physical pain heal with time. Or with divinity, if they could ever figure out how.

"Thanks for coming, Lucifer Morningstar. I'm Officer Michael Trent."

"Pleasure, I'm sure. Can we just get this farce over with? I'd like to go home."

"Not happening." He jumped when the monster glared at him, brown eyes seething. It was as if, when none of his friends were watching, his anger and hatred--his true self--bubbled to the surface easily, naturally. "I mean you stay at the cafe, right? It's a crime scene right now, so we can't have you messing with evidence. We'll be setting up a room for you if you need, something to get away from the horrible experience."

"Unnecessary. I'll take care of myself."

"I see. Well, I guess let's just go into questions. What was your relation with the victim?"

"Sarah was a friend of the Spawn's--sorry, Beatrice, Dan and the Detective's daughter." Lucifer played idly with some lint. "She came by occasionally. We didn't fight or anything, but I wouldn't say we were close either."

"The others said she idolized you. That they all kind of did."

"I don't doubt it. I have that affect on people," Lucifer answered, shifting slightly.

"Does it bother you?"

"Hardly. I mean, what's not to adore?"

The fact you're the actual Devil. The Prince of Darkness, Evil Incarnate, Torturer of Souls, and Corrupter of innocence? Honestly, taking the children from him was doing God's work, no doubt, but Trent didn't care about that.

Trent studied the monster before him, though, noticing something off. Lucifer didn't lie, for one. Or at least he claimed he didn't, and Trent had no evidence to the contrary. But he also didn't actually answer the question. In fact, if one could judge the Devil by human standards of expression--something Trent admittedly was hesitant to do--it also appeared as if he _was_ bothered by it.

It took effort to hide his grin at the discovery. "You're not bothered? At all? At the fact that teenagers watch you do drugs, drink on the job, abandon your duty, injure--"

"Is there a point to this?" Lucifer snapped, fists clenching.

"I think Sarah got a bit too close to you for comfort. It's obvious you're keeping everyone at a distance. In fact, you sent someone to the hospital recent--"

"You better watch your words, officer, or I swear you'll--"

"What are you going to do? Hurt me? Am I hitting to close?" Trent snorted, hoping his shaking came off as angry instead of scared. "Here's what I think. One of two things happened. One is Sarah tried to get close to you and you got angry, tried to trick her or push her away or, hell, even get rid of her entirely. The propane tank? An accident. Maybe. Or two, Sarah confronted you about what you did to Trixie and you lashed out at her, scared her badly. In her fright and despair..." Trent paused, leveling his eyes with the brown one that covered up red fire. "She took her own life."

Trent was up against the wall before he realized it, and no longer were the red eyes hidden. The officer flinched, struggling to get away as he laughed all the while, his reaction to fear often being to lash out. "Can't take the truth, Lucifer?" he barked.

"What do you know? You think that poor girl committed suicide because of something I did?" Lucifer's voice was shaking with fury and his face twisted with pain, the red burning into Trent's very soul.

"Who wouldn't when faced with that," Trent whispered, moving slightly over so that the two-way mirror showed his reflection. "Especially a vulnerable teen."

Lucifer caught his own gaze and dropped Trent with a start, eyes fading back to brown, though he still glowered at the officer. "I didn't see Sarah at all after the incident with the Spawn."

"Can you prove this? And if not, can you explain the blood outside your cafe?"

"You think I would make sacrifices like that? Idiotic symbols as if pleading with a tormented version of Dad? With a girl I killed on accident? Or who--"

"Maybe not. You've got a point there, but I do think you influenced her to write that message. If she was supposed to die after it, I don't know, but why else would she have paint on her hands?"

Lucifer stood quietly, clearly fuming. Michael Trent smirked at the monster and drove the last point home. "Everyone who knows you and your relationship with the victim seems to think you're the cause. Maryann, Esther, Noah. Go ahead, I'll get you the transcripts if you want. But face it, Lucifer, even if you didn't do it, you're clearly the reason she died. And I plan to prove it."

The room was cold, filled with silence as Lucifer took deep breaths and gazed at nothing. With a raspy voice, he growled, "am I being arrested?"

"Right now? No."

"Then I'm leaving." He stormed out of the room, and when the door shut behind him Trent could feel the pressure lifting. The officer laughed nervously, glancing back at the mirror and glad he'd made sure another cop would distract Chloe and Dan while he worked. Setting himself up as the antagonist to the Devil was already dangerous. He couldn't risk his partners taking him off the case.

Oh but what a thrill it was, facing down the Devil at last. His mirth turned manic as he clutched his stomach. It was so easy to provoke him! That nightmarish creature was so determined to appear human, humane, and moral that no human really had to fear him, but it didn't stop the natural, primal instinct from surfacing in the face of Hell itself.

This was going to be the best experience of Michael's life.


	24. A Place to Stay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a shorter chapter. Ran out of time. Sorry folks!
> 
> In other news, we're now over 500 kudos! I know I announce this often, but I'm just so freaking happy and thankful! Seriously, you guys are wonderful!

By the time Lucifer stepped out of the interrogation room, all his called upon strength vanished. He slumped against the wall, shaking as he brought his hands up to his face. The darkness that followed almost had him collapse right there, but his pride wouldn't let him. Just a little longer, then he'd get out of the precinct and somewhere safe.

At first, it'd been surprisingly encouraging being near the detective's desk. More fond memories had surrounded that location. Playful banter was easy to recall and it'd encouraged him to speak, even if he knew he'd regret it afterwards. The Detective already saw a part of it after all! A little more, then maybe.

And then she'd thanked him and he wasn't sure what to do. The memory of her condemning him, justly so, ran so parallel that he'd thought he'd imagined her words to balance out the pain. But no, she'd persisted. Which was, inevitably, worse. He hadn't saved her for her thanks. It had been a selfish desire. When Chloe finally moved on, she'd go to Paradise, the Silver City, Heaven. Arguably, the best forever vacation spot for mortals, but he'd bound her on Earth for a bit longer because he couldn't stand to lose her. He couldn't let her escape yet, go where he could never join. 

She knew Heaven existed, had to know that was where she was going. Why would she thank him? Why would she ever smile at him again.

It gave him hope, and that bit of hope had to be torn away from him again so quickly. The club. Of course they'd hate him. He did nothing to prevent this. Whoever was killing those rodents wanted attention Lucifer wasn't giving and so they targeted someone he knew. Who was next? The kids knew. They'd resent him, keep Beatrice away, remind Chloe of why she should never open up again. His thoughts were spiraling further down. He felt torn into pieces, like the Devil himself was crumbling to ash. The Abyss stood to one side, beckoning him, reminding him just what he really was. A monster. He could see it in that officer's eyes too. And wasn't that the truth?

To his other side, though, was a warmth, a light. Blue eyes shining with compassion, nerdy shirts with nerdier catchphrases and, more brightly, the small, but strong hugs. If his friends' condemnations were what shattered him, then their kindness was all that was holding him together still.

He hated that they pitied him, and hated even more that he craved their concern. A walking contradiction.

Sarah.

The teen's awkward smile and gait was summoned in his mind. She deserved concern more. He needed to help find the killer. It was the least he could do.

"Lu?" The Devil tilted his head up, staring at Christian before him. At least, he was pretty sure it was Christian. The voice belonged to his employee, and the figure was vaguely Christian shaped, but his vision had gone blurry. Had Lucifer been crying and not noticed it? Quickly rubbing his eyes to clear them, Lu merely nodded in acknowledgement. "Hey, do you have a place to stay tonight?"

Ah, right, the cafe would be off limits. A crime scene. Lucifer shook his head, the effort to form words escaping him. Christian patted Lucifer's arm with a solemn nod. "Come on, I have a solution and I think Jesus and I could use the company."

*

Trent slipped casually into the tech room, hiding his scowl as he berated himself. He'd spent so long forming this calm exterior that having it shatter in the face of his enemy was shameful. Sure, it was the Devil. Who _wouldn't_ break down in front of him? Some had even gone to a psychiatric ward because of him. But Trent thought himself better, more prepared. Easy solution, though, and even if he'd let slip the facade, he'd still achieved his goal. Now it was a matter of making sure no one found out about him antagonizing a suspect.

His throat hurt. It was a reminder that he needed to be more careful going forward. Carmen would likely laugh at him for confronting divinity so aggressively as if Carmen himself hadn't done it before. 

"Hey John," Trent muttered as he walked up to an intern. "Mind if I can get a glimpse of the video interview I just had. John glanced up, wary but nodded. Trent was senior in the office and very unassuming. That worked wonders on letting people's guards down in entirely different ways than Carmen or that monster did.

John stepped aside as Trent went to work, pulling up the video easily from the files kept. Experience allowed him to erase the audio, keeping the visual part separate. There were more corrupt police than most people realized and Trent had spent years sliding into their favor using similar techniques. Though, it'd also had the added the benefit of his higher ups turning a blind eye when he slipped up. Harder to do with Chloe Decker around, but Dan Espinoza was surprisingly sympathetic to Trent's struggles. He wouldn't encourage it, but seemed guilty whenever he scolded Trent for his actions. Probably related to stealing evidence from lock-up. Twice. And Trent rarely strayed in front of his partners for Dan to really think it was a problem.

"Holy Hell," John muttered as he peered over Trent's shoulder. He watched as Lucifer slammed Trent against the wall and then glanced at the bruise forming on the officer's neck. "That man is incredibly violent."

"Yeah, he was threatening me for even considering him a suspect," Trent bluffed. He rubbed his neck for effect. "I was hoping to catch the dialogue he said during that time since I was a bit out of it, but the sound file seems corrupted."

"For real? Shit. I'll see if anyone can fix it. Is he a suspect thought?"

"Yes. The main one, right now. Problem is, Decker and Dan seem to be covering for him. An old friend. I think I may have to ask that they be taken off the case."

*

Maze wasn't surprised to find she was the last one to arrive. Not only did she have to wait until Dan got back home, but it took effort to untangle herself from Trixie when the kid pieced together where the demon was going and why. More the why, actually. So by the time she'd made it to her current place of residence--kind of, to her it'd always be Lucifer's but it was a nice place to stay while the man was slumming it in that cafe--the rest of the group had drinks and finger sandwiches passed around. Maze accepted her cup of homemade sweet tea and added a healthy amount of alcohol to it. Linda frowned, a bit insulted by the addition to her concoction, but said nothing.

"So, why are we gathered here? You mentioned Lucifer?" Ella asked, sitting next to the Angel of Death who _still_ hadn't responded to Maze's text.

"Is he alright?" Amenadiel questioned.

"Well his cafe has a giant hole in it and there was a body outside of it, but physically he's fine," Ella answered.

"He told me a bit about that. Sarah was it?" Maze glanced at the group. "Any leads?"

Chloe winced, shaking her head. "We shouldn't talk about the case outside of work. The important thing is that Lucifer didn't do it." Her expression said that there was more to that statement and Maze glowered. As stubborn as the King of Hell, Chloe caught the glower and returned it with a glare of her own. She wasn't going to elaborate. Damn it.

"Fine. Whatever. If it's related to what we talk about though, I'll pry your thoughts out if I have to torture you," Maze grumbled, the threat only half-serious. She did love torture, but it wouldn't work on Chloe and the consequences would not be worth the risk. Plus, she liked Chloe.

"What are we talking about, anyway?" Linda seemed quiet as she spoke, a bit withdrawn. Maze studied her, curious about what was eating her.

"Whatever the Hell happened to our idiot Devil. It's about fucking time we talk because I, for one, am tired of skulking about in the shadows. The figurative ones that don't involve bounties or fun, at least. Lucifer is decidedly _not_ fun right now."

"He's trying," Chloe defended with a frown. "He was talking to me about something earlier, but we got interrupted. His brother." She glanced at Amenadiel and corrected herself. "The dead one. Uriel."

"I saw him in Hell, so that doesn't surprise me. Mom mentioned he was... Troubled over it."

Ella whispered into Azrael's ear, the angel turning to her and responding in an equally quiet voice. Maze watched them carefully.Right, the scientist girl only found out the truth recently. She had a lot of catching up to do. Still, she was taking it rather well. Rae could handle the explanations.

"So he was in a Hell Loop thing with Uriel." Chloe furrowed her eyebrows. Maze sighed, still annoyed that her former boss could get caught up in a loop over something so stupid.

"I think," Amenadiel started. "When I picked him up out of Hell, Lucifer froze the loop. Unconsciously. Uriel was there, but he wasn't moving."

"What else was there?" Maze took a long drink of her makeshift long island tea. "Was there anything else?"

"Ash. Or dust. A lot of it. Piles and piles. And a light, or something. And um..." Amenadiel turned at Chloe. "You. Lucifer was holding you. Then, in the middle of talking to me you, uh, died. Crumbled into dust." The older angel shifted uneasily, waiting for a moment as Rae continued to whisper into Ella's ear. "Maybe Uriel was killing you over and over, the way Lucifer killed him? It did look like you had a stab wound, but I didn't get a good look at the--your--body."

"Not just her, if that's the case, but Ella and Linda," Maze muttered. But not her, which was a bit annoying. It'd be annoying too, though, if she was 'killed' by Uriel. And what about Trixie? He seemed perfectly fine with Trixie, the bastard.

"Like some kind of revenge?" Linda mused, scratching her head. "But then why would he react so poorly to our presence. Does he see us die again when he runs into us? That does fit the symptoms of PTSD, but if so what can we do about it?" Linda spoke the last part aloud, but was more introspective as she continued to try and figure out an answer. Therapist style or something.

"I don't think Uriel's the problem." The group turned to the elevator where Trixie, followed by her dad, stormed in. She fumed, her arm strapped against her chest but not making her seem any less dangerous. To Maze, she snapped "why would you leave me out of this? I've been close to Lu for the past several months. If we're going to help him, I should be included!"

"You're drugged and injured," Maze countered. "And normally I'd say 'sure, why the fuck not?' but you _also_ haven't processed the fact that your _best friend is dead._ "

A flicker of sadness crossed Trixie's face and Maze knew she'd stepped out of line. Well, she wasn't going to apologize for the truth. As tears began to build up, though, she almost did. "You're my best friend. But I do... I do miss Sarah. I wish she didn't die. But... But... If we're going to help her, we need to help Lucifer too." She sniffed.

Dan patted his daughter on the back, squeezing her shoulder briefly in comfort before smiling weakly at the group. "I agree with Trixie. Lucifer may not be my favorite guy in the world, but he's clearly involved in this case. I don't hate Trent, but he's still just an officer. I'd rather Chloe or I talk to him. What some of those kids were saying..." Dan shook his head.

"Did you check out the interrogation tape? What did Lucifer say?" Chloe asked, sitting up.

"I... Did," Dan grumbled in frustration. "And it doesn't look good. The sound file was corrupted, so all we can do is see it."

"And?" Trixie raised her face to her father.

"Well, Lucifer acted like Lucifer when he's angry," Dan replied, huffing out an annoyed sigh. "He attacked Trent. Trent had already left by the time I saw the video, so I'll have to wait until tomorrow to ask him about it."

Maze groaned slightly, grabbing Trixie by her good arm and pulling her aside. "Trix, look, I know you want to help, but you do need to rest. And did you have to bring your father?"

"Did you expect me to drive?"

"I expected you to call an Uber or something. No, I expected you to sleep." Maze sniffed, wondering just how Trixie got so belligerent about taking care of herself. The kid was like a demon at times. Where did she learn _that_ from?

"Well, I didn't think about that," Trixie muttered, wincing as she adjusted her arm. "I'll remember that next time, but why is it so bad that Dad is here?"

"How about because Dan doesn't know about Lucifer being the Devil?"

"His problem, not ours, " Trixie said with a shrug, thought process clearly not completely functioning.

"Lucifer keeps imagining his brother attacking you guys?" Dan summarized when Trixie slid up beside him again.

"Uh, something like that?" Ella replied, still a bit confused by all the new information.

"Why? That makes no sense." Dan chose a seat next to Chloe as he puzzled over the situation. "Why would Lucifer act so... Like it's his fault or something?"

"Revenge is the assumption." Amenadiel leaned on the chair Linda was in, grabbing his drink from the table beside the therapist. "Lucifer and Uriel got into a... Bad fight, so Lucifer suffered... Repeated images of his brother getting revenge."

Ugh, this was like talking in circles. Maze should have grabbed the kid anyway instead of trying to be nice and have her focus on healing. At least then they could avoid this. Actually, they could avoid this anyway. Maze smirked. "Repeated images being hell loops, he means," Maze snapped. "And by revenge, we mean Lucifer killed Uriel for trying to kill his bitch mom and Chloe."

"Uh, what? Lucifer killed his brother?"

"Maze!" Linda yelped. 

"Yep. Years and years ago. Before even Pierce. So when Lucifer went to Hell again, he got caught in a Hell Loop like an idiot," Maze explained.

"Please tell me we're not still doing the 'he's the Devil' bit," Daniel groaned.

"How about this, Dan. Ask this room who believe Lucifer is still joking, or play acting, or whatever."

"Seriously, Maze? Is now the time?" Chloe scowled at the demon and Maze shrugged.

"All hands on deck or whatever."

Dan was staring at the group, a bit of disbelief on his face. "You're joking. You all believe him? _You_ believe him, Chloe? I thought you knew better."

Silence followed his statement, each person looking a different level of embarrassment or guilt. Trixie broke the quiet first, looking her father in the eye. "We can prove it. Amenadiel has wings. Lucifer does too, but he's not here to show you. They're gorgeous though." Trixie pulled out her feather necklace, holding it up to her father. 

"Trixie's right. Lucifer is being honest about who he is. But, please, Dan, remember that he's a good guy." Chloe studied her hands for a moment. "I forgot that when I found out and it.... I'm the reason he went back to Hell six years ago."

Dan rolled his eyes. "You cannot be seriou--"

He was cut off by the sound of wind dispersing, eyes locking onto Amenadiel as wings spread out behind his back. "Look, we don't have time for this. If you need to process all of this, go ahead and take off. We'll get Trixie home safe, but everything Lucifer said was true. He does not lie." Amenadiel lowered his head, a bit defeated.

"I don't... I can't..." Dan's eyes widened and he shifted uneasily. "You're an _angel?_ "


	25. One bit of happiness

Chloe handed Dan a glass of alcohol, some of the top shelf stuff kept from when Lucifer owned the place. It felt fitting since the owner was at least partially responsible for the situation, not that anyone would hold it against him. Dan accepted the drink with a weak smile and a quiet thanks before taking a long drink of the whiskey. After a second drink, he set the cup aside and offered Amenadiel a shaky smile.

"I guess it's a bit late to say 'long time no see'," Dan said, staring at tall angel, who had his wings folded away. 

"It has been. I missed you guys," Amenadiel replied, offering a gentle smile to the detective. 

"Man, I haven't seen you since, um..." Dan scratched his head, fishing for memories.

"Charlotte," the angel offered. 

"Right. Since Charlotte... Died." Dan frowned at the memory and Chloe nodded in understanding. The wound that her loss created had healed over the years, but it'd always be a bitter scar. "Where did you go?"

Amenadiel stared at Dan for a long time before answering. "I took Charlotte to Heaven, personally."  
"Right. Um. Right."

"I know it's a lot to take in, Dan."

"It is, yeah. I mean you. An angel. That makes... Oh God.. Oh GOD," Dan started, eyes widening as he gazed at Maze who was peacefully swirling her alcohol. She grinned at him, teeth flashing.

"Yes, Maze is a demon," Chloe interrupted. "If she'd intended on hurting any of us, I think she would have done it a long time ago, though."

"I'm not worried about her hurting us. Okay, I am now, but I was worried about _letting a demon hang out with our daughter_."

"Hey! Maze is great! And she taught me to defend myself!" Trixie interjected too, sitting up proudly.

"How long have you known? How long have _all_ of you known?" Dan demanded before pointing a finger at the totally-not-a-ghost woman next to Ella. "And who are you?"

"I'm Azrael, but you can just call me Rae-Rae," she replied, offering an awkward shrug in greeting. "I'm Manny and Lu's sister and Ella's friend."

"And the reason I found out, which was totally not even a month ago!" Ella added.

"I won't lie; I've known the longest. I forced Lucifer to reveal the truth to me when I thought his 'metaphors' were getting to be a bit too much." Linda laughed lightly. "Boy did I find out just how much I'd miss them."

"When Lucifer returned, he um... Had to do something and I wouldn't leave the room," Trixie explained. "So, I guess I learned then."

Chloe had a distinct impression she knew exactly what he was doing. The conversation with Lucifer painfully recent, along with the discovery that he'd saved her life but still wanted to blame himself for it, as if it was the wrong thing to do.

Dan's eyes had landed on her after Trixie spoke. So did a few others and Chloe realized it was her turn in the most awkward of 'when did you discover divinity' confessions. Since this was only the second she'd been a part of, though, there wasn't much competition. "Six years ago. When he killed Pierce. As I said, I didn't take it very well."

"Didn't take it very well?" Dan exclaimed. "You continued to work with him and let Maze continue to hang out with Trixie!" Dan ran a hand through his hair, suddenly standing a pacing. He paused for only a moment to finish off his drink. "I won't lie, Chlo, I have half a mind to take Trix and go right now and not look back." He leveled her with a gaze and Chloe smiled weakly at him.

She knew. It was her presence that kept him here more than anything. That and the fact he still hadn't fully processed everything. Or that Lucifer wasn't there. No one had directly said he was the Devil, but it had to be lurking in Dan's mind. Perhaps the image of their arrogant partner trembling at the mere sight of him would help keep Dan from running. If there was any good to come out of that mess, Chloe supposed making Lucifer seem unthreatening was one.

"Well as much of a fun detour that was, we should get back on topic," Maze hissed. Chloe rolled her eyes at the demon. As if she wasn't the cause of the 'detour'. Maze smirked at the detective, knowing what was on the blonde's mind.

"Wait," Dan said, stopping his circle. "You guys said Lucifer 'revealed himself' to you, right? How? Did he pull his wings out like Amenadiel? That couldn't be it. His wings were stolen!"

"Lucifer has another face," Maze noted just as Trixie opened her mouth to protest, confusion on the teen's face. "A 'Devil Face', if you will. He showed it to them. It's quite frightening." Again, a predatory smile appeared on the demon's face. "I can show you something similar. My other face." Dan paled and shook his head.

"No. No, that's fine. Let's get back on track. What uh... What did we gather for?"

But that comment lurked in Chloe's head. She leaned back, tea in hand, as she mulled over Dan's statement. 'His wings were stolen!' He wasn't lying. Chloe remembered that case, faintly. They were stolen, then he decided to forget about them. Lucifer must have gotten his wings back somehow, but what was it about the theft...

"Carmen Grant!" Chloe shouted, jumping up onto her feet and interrupting something Amenadiel was saying. As the group turned to her, she gestured in the air vaguely. "Carmen Grant. The former auctioneer turned charity worker."

"I know who he is, Chlo, but what about him?" Dan inquired.

"Well this case, the one at the cafe, it looks a bit like a frame job, right? Since we know Lucifer didn't do it, I mean. So we're looking for someone who would have a grudge against him _and_ have reason to present it as something 'for the Devil'."

"That's not exactly a short list. Lucifer makes friends as easily as he makes mortal enemies. Or immortal," Maze cooed, though she didn't deny Chloe's line of thinking. Likely because she didn't know the case nor the man.

"Right, except um that drug--"

"Tubocurarine?" Ella asked.

"That. A paralyzing drug. Now, follow me here for a moment. The four murders from Victor used poison like that, a different one each time if i recall. We couldn't even find the drug he gave the first victim. Sally Monroe. So it wouldn't be unreasonable to think this is also connected."

"Tubocurarine was used in the third murder, if I recall," Ella mused. "But Victor was arrested."

"I know." Chloe's mind was putting pieces together as quickly as possible. Technically, the case was Dan's and she'd just slipped in after returning.She'd only met Carmen once, but even then he'd seemed familiar. "And I'm not saying he didn't do it, but what if Carmen was involved. I mean, Heaven on Earth? It's awefully suspicious considering the circumstances."

"What do you mean? How does Carmen Grant fit into this?" 

Chloe pointed a finger at Dan, as if he had asked exactly the right question. "Carmen Grant is the man who stole Lucifer's wings. Which means, not only does he know the truth, but if there's anyone who has a grudge against the Devil, it'd be him."

*

Jesus' home was packed. Several children ran about and yelling could be heard, both attention calling and squeals of joy as a six year old peeled out of the house, past the three men at the door and fleeing into the yard. She tripped over the edge of a sandbox and landed face first in the sand only to pop up a second later giggling loudly.

Children. Of course it had to be filled with children. Lucifer cast a rueful eye at the duplex--technically split between two families, though the belongings of one family were scattered on both sides of the lawn. Sensing his apprehension, Christian patted his back, chuckling slightly.

"No worries, you'll be staying on the side without kids," the teenager explained.

"I certainly hope so," Lucifer sniffed. "I despise children." Though he had to admit that the scene before him distracted his mind from those terribly invasive dark thoughts

Jesus had already entered the building, calling in Spanish to someone unseen. Christian followed and Lucifer had to maneuver around an obstacle course made of toys and messes that would fit perfectly in Hell. Were he wearing his suits, he wouldn't even attempt to enter, cluttered as it was.

Once Lucifer had stepped into the kitchen--the cleanest room in the house thus far--he was greeted by Jesus once more, smiling apologetically. "Sorry, it's a bit of a mess. The neighborhood kids come here too so it's not uncommon for a dozen or so brats milling about."

"This late at night?" Surely they had homes to return to. Away from here.

Jesus merely shrugged. "It's almost summer break and they enjoy their sleepovers. Besides, no rest for the wicked, eh?"

"Perhaps wicked should at least consider a nap," Lucifer grumbled. 

Color had returned to Jesus' skin, the pale, shocked teen replaced with the usual cheerful partner of Christian's. Family, Lucifer realized. He was comfortable and happy here with his family. Or he was putting on a brave face for his younger siblings. Sadly, Lucifer knew Jesus only on a surface level. Maybe he should get to know them better, in case something...

"Well hello there," a woman said, stepping out of a large pantry and carrying several cans of vegetables. She flashed a grin at Lucifer. "I'm Elise, Christian's mom. You the guest Christian asked to stay over? I hear your home is off limits."

"Ah, yes, it's currently a crime scene."

"Oh no! What happened? Was anyone hurt?"

Both Christian and Jesus shifted uneasily, the grins that had managed to return fleeing once more at the memory of their lost friend. Lucifer nodded stiffly. "Yes. Unfortunately. A friend."

"Oh. Oh dear, no wonder you look so distraught," Elise said. "Not that you look bad! I mean, um..."

"It's fine, dear," Lucifer explained, raising a hand to ward her off. He cast a worried glance at Christian and Elise followed, realizing that said friend was also one of the two boys.

"Oh, Honey." The mother stepped to both of them, embracing them tightly before stepping back and shoving them slightly. "How about you men go and set up a table at our place and I'll bring dinner over so you can eat in quiet for once? I'll tell your fathers to join you, make it a men's night." She hugged her son again and then turned to continue with the meal she'd already started. "And I'll be here if you need to talk."

Lucifer cleared his throat slightly, quirking his lips when Elise turned to face him. "If you don't mind, I could prepare something."

"That's unnecessary! You don't need to worry about it."

"I insist. It would be nice to take my mind off of things. Though, I do need a um... Number of people."

"Oh, of course, of course." The woman caved quickly, flashing a look at her son and realizing she'd have more time with him if she didn't have to feed two dozen mouths.

Once a brief count and an even briefer dinner instruction was conducted, Lucifer went to work in the kitchen. Alone. Really, he should have asked someone to stay, keep him out of his own head, but he couldn't ask that of the club. Not when they just lost a friend and death came harder to humans than the Devil. Not when that death was his fault.

The sounds of children laughing, though, helped stave off the worst of it. He had vague memories of the Spawn in her younger years. Her presence was less of a problem than he'd thought, even if it came with unicorns and shoes. She'd been a part of his life, a part of _his_ family.

"But you never acknowledged me," Trixie, a young Trixie, scolded him.

"Shut up," Lucifer hissed. She stood in front of him, a child of eight years with her arm in a cast and a frown on her face.

"You've returned, made friends with him and still won't acknowledge me. You didn't even show me the truth because you wanted to. I was just inconsequential, you didn't care if I knew."

"Shut up." The Devil gritted his teeth, watching the phantom clutch her arm painfully.

"Then you hurt me. Then you got my friend killed. Those I care about are hurt because of you."

"And you tried to escape that blame," another person said, joining the voice. Uriel's. Because of course it was Uriel. "Tried to get forgiveness and understanding from Chloe. Because you think, for some absurd reason, she can redeem you."

Lucifer shut his eyes, trying to ignore them, but they lingered in front of his eyelids, bright in his head still and their words even louder.

"Excuse me." Another voice joined in, but this time it was unfamiliar. Lucifer jolted out of his thoughts, spinning quickly to face the newcomer. Someone new was in the kitchen, an older woman frowning as she studied him. "Everything okay?" There was a distinct accent in her voice, one that he heard even before he saw her. The slight lilt that came from English being a second language. She was Asian, Chinese if he were a betting man. And he was, usually.

Lucifer opened his mouth to answer in the positive, but the phantom Trixie lurking in the shadows gave him pause. "No, but I don't think you can assist with it. I'll be done with dinner soon."

"I'm not so sure that I can't help, but I understand if you don't want to talk to some strange woman." Instead of leaving as he expected her to do, she moved to the fridge, pulling out two apples and offering one to him. "Well, at the very least, when you do feel the need to talk to someone, there's always at least one person available." Her eyes cast upward to a cross with a soft smile.

Lucifer didn't know if she meant his half brother or his father as humans were funny like that and often considered them one and the same, but either way he scoffed. "I assure you he's not interested in my troubles."

"You never know," she countered, but didn't completely disagree. There was something in her expression, an aged look that said she had experience with his kind and long learned not to force the issue. Instead, she spoke of herself and those who thought like her. "My husband gave up on God too, you know. In the war, he thought there was no way a merciful God could allow such tragedy. But after a while, do you know what he discovered?"

"Let me guess, he saw the light," Lucifer muttered and the woman laughed.

"In a sense, but not a literal one. He told me a few years ago that he realized God had his ways of giving love, giving warmth even after all the bad. Here, with his children, his wife, his family, he found peace. Sure, there are bad times, but even just one bit of happiness gave him that reason to believe again, to go on."

Lucifer studied his companion, her eyes locked on the cross, and considered her words. It was easy to dismiss them--his father certainly didn't give him happiness--but there was something to them. Except, "the problem is my happiness brings only suffering to those I care about."

"I don't think that's the case. I mean, if there's anything we can agree on, it's that humans have freedom of choice. That being the case, wouldn't they walk away from you if you only brought them suffering? Maybe you bring them just as much joy as they bring you, instead."

Lucifer took a bite of the apple. It was hard to agree with the woman, but when he looked to the corners there were no more phantoms. That, at the very least, made him think they were on the right track.

*

An empty bar with tacky Hawaiian decorations was fused with a much older bar from the 1960s. The music was even an awkward mix of Jazz and Tropical sounds, or at least Chloe thought that's what it was. She spun in a slow circle in the dream bar, taking in each detail. The Hawaiian part was obviously her influence as it resembled the bar the Tribe often frequented. The other part though had to be Lucifer's. She pondered if he'd gone to that bar too, picking up women and men on that old bar stool so many years ago. 

"Detective," the man occupying her thoughts stated as he manifested beside her, eyes cast away as usual. It upset Chloe that she was getting used to him avoiding her gaze, but at least he seemed more relaxed in these dream settings. Now that she knew they were real, or well that Lucifer was real at least.

"Lucifer. Are you okay? Where are you staying?" Chloe asked. She had been worried that he was staying alone in a hotel when he seemed ready to break, but maybe he'd prefer that? Chloe wasn't entirely sure as the conversation of Lucifer had dropped off once she'd gone full detective on Carmen. A part of her felt guilty about that, but clearing his name was helping him too.

"I'm fine, Detective. Christian's family is putting up with me for now. Quite cramped, but they gave me the emptier side of the house so it'll do." Lucifer sighed. "Makes me miss Lux, though. Even Redeye doesn't have the comfort quite like home."

Chloe grinned, happy to hear Lucifer talk of Lux. It felt more familiar, normal. "That's good. You both can help each other out. I'm sorry for your loss."

Lucifer hummed in acknowledgement but otherwise didn't speak, walking up to the bar and holding up a hand for a drink. No one else was in the bar but a drink slid in front of him nevertheless. "Quite the setup you have here. Wish I got to see you partying here in person."

Despite the embarrassment of the idea, Chloe nodded. "Well there's always the future. We could get togethere here." Once more, Lucifer hummed in response, which was not really a response at all. Decker groaned and stepped up to the bar as well, where a drink already sat waiting.

Catching her staring at it, Lucifer grinned and drank from his own glass. "Dream physics."

"Well, sure beats that dark, dusty place," Chloe stated, glancing at the Devil and hoping he'd take the bait.

Once more, he hummed, but this time his expression darkened as he set his glass down. "Indeed, but anything beats that, Detective. I'm sorry you had to see it."

Chloe reached out to him, hand resting on his wrist. He flinched slightly but otherwise remained unmoved. "Can you tell me about it?" She was sure he had started to, and they had pieces from her and Amenadiel's recollections, but it'd help if she could get it from the horse's mouth.

Lucifer cast his eyes up to the sky and then back to his drink, which he finished in one some gulp. "Not right now," he said, voice a whisper.

"Lucif--"

"Not now, but soon." He seemed to be steeling himself to some resolution. "When we catch the culprit who murdered Sarah."

Chloe nodded. "Deal." She knew how binding that word was to him. Though he could break a deal, she knew he wouldn't. Not one with her. "And we may have a lead."

"Oh?" Lucifer turned to her at last, though his dark eyes settled on her chin.

"Carmen Grant sound familiar?"

The Devil growled quietly before shaking his head. "How could I forget? He's the bastard who took my wings. You think he did it?" He tilted his head in thought. "That... That makes a lot of sense."

"As revenge, yeah. It'd explain why it looks like a frame job"

"No," Lucifer replied. "No. But definitely to get to me." He lifted his eyes up once more, brown connecting with blue for the briefest moment. "He saw divinity. Divinity can be like a drug to people. It makes you crave more, and my wings are one of the strongest ones. For a drug like that, I can absolutely believe someone would kill."

"So, this is almost like a drug war with you as the literal source?" Chloe questioned.

"Sort of," Lucifer elaborated. "But here's the issue, Detective. If that scum is involved, I don't think he did it himself." Something seemed to be tearing at him as he followed some train of thought Chloe didn't know. After a few moments, he downed a second magical dream drink and concluded "I suspect he'd send people to commit his crimes and lure me out instead of doing the deed himself."

The room seemed to be darkening, bits of wall and furniture crumbling as Lucifer discovered a possible truth that seemed to destroy him just as much. "And the worst way to accomplish that would be to use people I care about. To make them victims or accessories." Or culprits, though that word hung silently in the air between them.


	26. Possible Motive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I haven't replied to comments yet! I swear I will do it as soon as I get a chance, because I love all of you and try to reply to everything (and I see new readers and I know I have to fix something in the last chapter). You all are still amazing! I just wanted to make sure I got this out before I collapsed into sleep! 
> 
> Also! I have a twitter now. Or have had one for a long time, apparently. You can find me @Vaellin if you want to talk idle chatter. I've no idea what I'm doing with it though so sorry if I fudge up.

Chloe flew into the precinct like a hurricane, a woman on a mission. She was already halfway through the stacks of papers, looking for her case files, by the time her coworker walked up. “Great timing, Trent. Do you know where my case file for Sarah is? I swear I put it in my desk, but I can't find it.”

“That's because it's not there.” Chloe sharply turned to the man now, blue eyes narrow as she focused on him. In response, Trent handed over a new file and an awkward, apologetic smile. “We've been taken off of the case. It's been reassigned to Wesson.”

“What? Why?”

“Conflict of interest.” Trent hunched his back and stared at his feet. “I may have let it slip that you and Dan were specifically aiming to get Lucifer off the hook.”

“We weren't aiming for anything other than the truth!” Chloe snapped.

“I know. I know that's what you think is the truth, Decker. But what if you're wrong?” Trent stared at his feet still, but his eyes widened slightly with horror. “What if Lucifer is really a monster, someone with complete disregard for life? It's been six years. People change.”

“What possible motive could he have?” Chloe countered. She shouldn't be so angry at Trent. It wasn't his fault that the case got transferred, not really, if he was just repeating what she and Dan had been saying. But he was the closest target and she hated a lead being taken away from her. Also, something about the conversation felt off. Almost similar to how Lucifer wouldn't face her or seemed to cower in on himself. Out of character. Something was out of character with Trent, but she couldn't put her finger on it.

“I don't know, Decker. Maybe she knew some secret he didn't want to get out. Maybe she pissed him off or something. Maybe it was an accident, a violent reaction to some unseen force.”

“Except, she was poisoned. Everything in this case has indicated it was intentional. Not an accident. Lucifer wouldn't do that.”

“What do they say in the news? It's always the one you least expect.” Trent shook his head slowly. “Either way, doesn't matter. It's not our case anymore. And if he didn't do it, I'm sure the truth will come out. You have to trust your fellow officers.”

It wasn't that she didn't but, when supernatural forces were involved, they were at a severe disadvantage. “Fine, but I need to talk to him real quick. Where is Wesson?”

“He's out on the field. What did you find out?” Trent smiled encouragingly at her.

“Not much, just what was hypothesized earlier. It's probably a frame job. I may have a suspect too.” Chloe marched past her current partner, but he grabbed her before she could fully step away.

“Decker, we have our own cases. Just tell him later. It's not like he'll get closer to a conclusion in a single day than we did.” He waved the new file at her. “Who is the suspect anyway?”

Chloe hesitated. There was still something incredibly off about Trent, but he was right about needing to trust her fellow officers. Except, another individual, another partner had reminded her that she should trust her instincts, too. And that partner remained, without a doubt, the best one she'd ever had. “I'll let Wesson know when I get a chance. You're right for now. Let's focus on this other case.”

*

Honestly, Lucifer was tired of the constant roller coaster of feelings. He'd be fine one moment, then staring at ghosts the next. Receive good advice he actually considered applying, then be reminded that he had to fix what he broke first, already. And the worst part was he wasn't quite sure what had broken or if it could even be fixed. Somewhere in his conversation with Chloe that night, though, he'd come to a terrible realization.

If someone were to lure him out, how would they do it? How had he seen it done so many times? Pierce used his minion's imaginary sister. They'd used the book script to lure out the editor. Malcolm had used Beatrice on the Detective. It was always something they cared about, a person or object. Lucifer wasn't blind. He knew exactly who would be targeted if he became a person of interest. That was why he'd sent Mazikeen to watch over the Spawn.

But his scope had been too narrow.

He'd distanced himself from the Detective, but even more than that he was sure she could protect herself. Dan and Ella were also in that same boat. Being a cop allowed them a set of skills ordinary people would be without. Perhaps he'd worry a bit more about Miss Lopez, but she also had a Guardian Angel of Death at her side. Much like how Linda had a Guardian Demon, even if said demon was away.

The club, however, was different. Though he'd found them companionable, he had never considered them as close as the others. Outside of Christian, Lucifer doubted he'd put much effort into caring for them without some kind of stipulation. They were friendly acquaintances. Lucifer couldn't handle anything more than that, honestly.

From an outsider's perspective, though, that'd be different. A bunch of teens who get free drinks and hang out in his cafe all the time? Of course they're close to the Devil. Of course they're perfect people to lure out Satan and control him. And honestly, they were. Lucifer wasn't quite sure if that meant the teens were closer to him than he planned or if it was just his general distaste for evil, but the fact that he was positive the teens were involved angered him to no end.

He was furious. At Carmen Grant, if he was the culprit, for hurting and using innocents. And at himself for putting them in danger just so he could remain close to his last source of light.

That also meant something else, though, if he was right. Something about the way the others were acting that he had passed off as anger towards him, ignored in his own self loathing. Maybe he thought they were just echoes of his own thoughts, but that didn't quite add up. After all, Lucifer didn't consider healing people—outside of the Detective, but she was always the exception—and he certainly didn't consider himself an angel. Not even Uriel mocked him in such a way. And yet, Maryann had. Esther had. And they knew more.

That meant something was terribly off. One was how they knew. It wasn't as if telling people convinced them and Grant didn't have access to his wings. Lucifer had burned them so long ago. He'd barely brought his current wings out, too. And usually it required something in-their-face about it to realize. His wings and his face. How would someone go about presenting that without the actual source?

Also, why only Maryann and Esther? Or was it only him? Were Noah, Christian, and Jesus in on the case? Did they knew who killed Sarah?

_No one ever asked who killed her._

“Mr. Morningstar?” A knocking at the door and Elise's voice broke through Lucifer's thoughts. He rubbed his face and then snatched up his phones before approaching the door as the second series of knocks finished.

Opening the door to Christian's room, Lucifer offered Elise a smile, as well as one to the woman beside her. Ying, the Chinese woman had eventually introduced herself as at dinner the previous night, as well as Jesus' mother. Both seemed delighted to see him, with entirely different energy. Elise waved her fingers with an upheld hand while Ying just smiled, nodding her head politely. “Oh good! You're up! Breakfast is ready!”

“Sounds wonderful, darlings. I'll be downstairs in a moment.” Lucifer left the door open as the women walked away, pocketing his phones and grabbing his meager belongings. He was positive that, if he asked, the police would let him slip into the cafe to grab more, especially with Chloe heading the case, but he wasn't in any hurry. After slipping in quickly to the bathroom across from the room to fix his hair, he made his way down to the set table.

The children weren't there, unless he counted Christian and Jesus who sat with an empty seat between them. Only their parents were otherwise at the table, but he could hear the chatter of children from the other half of the house. As he sat down, Elise beamed. “We'll say grace and then I'll go handle the kids. Lu, as the guest, did you want to lead?”

Lucifer froze for a moment, stuck between horror and humor at the absurdity. Him? Say grace? He hadn't prayed since... well not as long as he'd expected, but still plenty long. “I think not,” he dismissed.

“That's fine,” Elise responded, shrugging. “I just figured I'd offer. Are you not a believer?”

“Ah, if you're asking if I believe in Heaven, yes, I do. We're just not on good terms right now,” Lucifer muttered, not sure how he felt about this line of questioning. 

Mark, Christian's father, laughed. “I hear you. Took a long time before God and I were on speaking terms.”

Lucifer flashed him an amicable grin. “It's been a long time for me as well.”

“Well, how about you lead instead, then, Christian?” Elise suggested, turning to her son.

Christian nodded before holding his hands out, which Lucifer held hesitantly, though he didn't close his eyes or bow his head as the teen spoke. “Dear God,” Christian prayed, “Thank you for the meal that's been provided for us and the warmth of family that continue to fill our home and hearts. Please, if you can, protect and help our friends as we go through a particularly hard loss. Keep them safe and guide them as they seek recovery. And take care, please, of those who have gone before us. In Jesus' name. Amen.”

There was an echo of 'amens' from the rest of the group, except the Devil, who just studied his employee quietly. The prayer was preposterous. The parents provided the food; people overcame struggles on their own; and his Dad hardly had the time to greet everyone who past the gates into the Silver City. Yet, he could, on one level, understand exactly why humans found comfort in their prayers. It was faith, Miss Lopez once described to him. Faith that someone would be on your side through hard times and watch over you and your family.

Even if he couldn't follow it, he could understand it. What he worried about was that having faith could lead people to think they were in the right when they committed grave sins.

Lucifer contemplated this quietly as he ate, and continued to be absorbed in his thoughts as the rest of the adults cleared out. He hadn't even realized it until Jesus patted him on the shoulder in a brief good-bye, explaining he had to take care of his siblings. Lucifer waited until Jesus left before he turned to Christian, who was nursing a cup of orange juice.

“Christian,” Lucifer stated, bracing himself as he moved forward. If Christian knew something or not, this would hurt the teen. “What do you know of Sarah's death?”

Christian's face flashed briefly in guilt and grief. “Nothing, Lu. I wish I did, but I can't be of any help.”

“And yet you feel guilty?” Lucifer pushed, his own knot of guilt building.

“Yes. At how everyone else feels. I mean, I will miss her, but I hardly knew her. A couple months at best. You knew her better than I!” Christian's grip on his cup tightened, but he didn't have the strength of the Devil to shatter it in his palms.

“So, you worry for the others more than yourself?” Lucifer questioned, power building as Christian turned to meet his eyes, nodding stiffly. Holding his gaze, Lucifer watched as the slight fog drifted over. “But then, what about _you?_ Christian, what is it that you desire?”

If he'd seen something suspicious and angelic, no doubt his desires would be connected to the Devil after all. The fear of being betrayed twisted a knife in Lucifer's gut as he waited the meager seconds for Christian to reply.

“I want... I want to be an astronaut.”

What. “Pardon? Why?”

“I want to be the first person on Mars.”

What? Lucifer blinked, leaning back and breaking the spell on the teen. He snorted briefly, processing what Christian just said before bursting into laughter. Christian's cheeks heated up in embarrassment as he glanced away from the Devil. “What! It's not that unrealistic!”

“No, no, that's not it,” Lucifer chortled, grinning. Equal parts relief and mirth filled him, chasing away the darkness for a little while as he made the connection. “You and the Spawn are two peas in a pod.”

“What do you mean?”

“You don't recall? I suppose it wasn't important back then, but the Spawn wants to be the first president of Mars.” Lucifer grinned widely at Christian who snorted in response, returning Lucifer's smile at memory.

“Oh. Right.” The teen stood up, chuckling slightly. Halfway to the kitchen with his drink, however, the door knocked and he turned to it. As the door swung open, Beatrice bounded in, limb bound but not stopping her one arm hug.

“Christian! Glad to see you're okay! I hear Lu's here!” the young woman cheered as she stepped in.

Lucifer watched her carefully, that knife back in his gut as he stared at the cast. Somehow he'd forgotten about it, just a bit. That he'd injured her the last time they saw each other, or second to last rather. His heart sunk even as she grinned at him, the briefest flicker of her phantom self standing beside her.

“Lucifer! How are you doing?”

“What are you doing here... Trixie?” Lucifer said, nearly stumbling over his words in the most graceless statement.

Trixie stopped in her tracks, a look of confusion on her face as she stared at him. Then she pouted, folding her arms before her and appearing every bit the seven year old he met so long ago. “Don't call me that.”

“What?”

“Trixie. If you really want to, go ahead, but it sounds weird.”

Lucifer furrowed his eyebrows, eyes going down to the cast then back up to the her eyes. “You're not bothered by the nickname? Or lack of nickname rather?”

“From you? No. And I do like your nicknames. No one else is allowed to call me 'Spawn', Lu.” She laughed, stepping into his space and slowly, carefully pulling him into a hug. He let her, accepting the gesture without returning it. “Have you really been worried about that? It's special to me, Lu. Who I am to you makes me special, in some ways.”

The phantom blinked out of existence. Lucifer kept still for a long moment, almost feeling a little lighter. Then, he frowned at the girl embracing him. “You didn't answer my question, though. What are you doing here?”

“Oh. That's simple. Maze dropped me off here. She said she wanted to keep me safe but had to go hunting.”

“Hunting?”

“Yeah. For my substitute teacher, or our club adviser I guess. Mom suspects him in um... her current case.” Beatrice's bright expression flickered for a moment before quickly hiding her pain again. Lucifer ached for her, wanting so badly to make her smiles real, and not the facade they currently were.

“Your teacher?” he inquired instead.

“Yeah. I believe his name was Carmen Grant? He's the adviser for the club.”

That sealed it. As a teacher, he'd have easy access to the children. Even if Lucifer didn't know how he led the kids to the truth, he knew exactly how he could trick them into trusting him. 

Carmen Grant was a dead man.


	27. Way to Redemption

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this last update has a couple of things that have made me ecstatic. First is I got my first piece of [fanart](http://fav.me/ddca4eb) by Mitashade! Go check it out! It's gorgeous! (The link is to her deviant page for the picture, so you can browse her other work too. She has other pictures from Lucifer fanfiction)
> 
> Also, holy cow I'm incredibly touched. I kind of saw that a couple people recommended me to one of my favorite fanfic writers so uh, thank you Slowen and GlitchedMindy!
> 
> And like, wow, I feel like a broken record but this story and you people that have supported me... I don't know how to express my thanks. I'm just kinda still taking it all in this whole time. You mean the world to me, know that. Yes, I'm sappy. Deal with it, I guess. =)

Throughout the day, the house was full of nonstop activity. Christian, Beatrice, and Jesus were often babysitting the neighborhood kids or helping with chores, keeping themselves busy. Elise, a stay at home mother, covered where they couldn't. That didn't mean Lucifer was left alone, though. At any given moment, he'd find himself with someone or another in the room he resided in, engaging him idly or prompting him to a task of his own. Usually, it was Christian or the Spawn, but sometimes the kids swarmed him for stories or, when the teens let it slip he could play, to play music on a plastic keyboard. It was inadequate for what he typically performed, but it sufficed in keeping the sticky monsters at bay. Other times, Mark and Marcus—the father's names, and apparently a bonding point—tried to strike up conversation about their war and struggles, claiming he seemed like a good listener. Elise insisted on learning how to cook from him, which was conducted in the kitchenette on Christian's side of the duplex, since Lucifer refused to cook while children milled between his legs. Even though they'd largely kept out of the kitchen the previous day, he wasn't so sure that'd be the case when the sun was at it's peak. Children were like plants, absorbing energy from the sun and then using it to destroy Lucifer's day.

Really, the only quiet time he had was late into the evening with Ying, where she sat in a chair with a Bible and he shifted between reading a book of his own— _Paradise Lost_ as even he was a sucker for the classics—and plunking out a melody from the twenty dollar yard sale instrument. However, even that was interrupted when a knocking came at the door and, upon Elise answering it, the Detective entered.

Lucifer stiffened involuntarily, their last conversation in person fresh in his mind and conflicting with the one from his dream—a step forward in solving the case, but also a reminder on the problems his very existence brought. Still, he forced himself to visibly relax as he cast his eyes over her shoulder and faked a smile. He hated the voices in his ear, whispers in the tune of both Chloe and Uriel, but they were still quiet enough that he could hear the actual voices from the people around him.

“Detective!” he drawled, broad, false smile successfully painted. Did Chloe just frown? It was hard to tell when he wasn't exactly looking at her face. “If you're looking for the Spawn, she's out back on the trampoline with the miniature humans.

“Yeah, I'm here to pick up Trixie,” Chloe replied. “But I'm also here to talk to you. Maze told me I could find you here.” Of course she did. His demon really needed to learn when he wanted space. If the Detective wanted to talk to him, couldn't she wait until their dream space? He handled her presence there better.

“Oh? What can I do for you, darling?” That frown again. He hated it. Exasperation, annoyance, and, above all, joy. Those were the kinds of emotions she should feel in his presence. Frowning brought him back to the Hell Loop version of her. Damn, he was doing so much better today too.

“I just needed to let you know... I've been taken off of the case.”

“What?” Lucifer glanced over, catching her eyes and realizing what the Detective was really feeling. Disappointment. In herself. “What happened?”

“Conflict of interest.”

“Because you knew the victim? Because she was a friend of your child? That is asinine! You've handle far more personal cases!”

Chloe shook her head slowly. “No, not because of Sarah. Because of you.” Lucifer felt as if his gut had been punched, and not by a mortal. “You're the primary suspect. They think because of our past partnership that I'd cover for you if you were the culprit.”

“Would you? If I had committed the crime?” Lucifer wasn't quite sure what answer he wanted. Couldn't know, he suspected, until he heard it from her.

Chloe closed her eyes, thinking for a moment. The Devil held his breath. When she opened her eyes again, he didn't flinch away from that focused blue stare, the sincerity behind it and behind the words that followed. “No. Lucifer, if you really did something wrong, I would turn you in. But I don't think you would. No matter what happens, any wrong doing you've done has had reason behind it. Pierce, your brother, Carmen. You aren't evil.”

“You say that, but--”

“But it's the truth.”

“Even if it's the truth, Chloe,” Lucifer cut in, closing his own eyes now. He was thankful, the Devil decided, that she wouldn't stand up for him no matter what he did. No, that wasn't quite right. She believed in him, but wouldn't sacrifice her beliefs should the impossible happen. 'Freedom of choice', right? Her choice should be made with all the cards in play, though, and that was something he'd kept from her for so long. “Even if that's the truth, I bring evil to those around me.”

“You can't believe that,” Chloe growled, the tone startling him. He opened his eyes, flicking his gaze to her shoulder again, though he grunted in dismissal. Chloe huffed an exasperated sigh in response. “Lucifer, you can't be held responsible for what everyone does. They choose to commit those wrong deeds; they choose to kill and hurt others, not you. You can't stop all of them. You're just one man.” She shrugged. “Sort of.”

It was dumb how much that made him feel better, how much weight had been lifted off of him. The phantom whispers were still there, but the smile on his face was now real. “I'm still quite the man, though,” he said in an attempt to lighten the conversation as well. He shifted uneasily and looked around the room as if trying to find something, a train of thought. “So you're off the case. That hasn't stopped you before, has it? Palmetto. We'll still work on it. Find the culprit, find Carmen Grant.”

“Together?” That hopeful tone did awfully fluttery things to his stomach.

“But of course. What is the Detective without her good Devil partner?”

*

With school coming to an end that week and her target being just an extended substitute teacher, Maze thought that there would be plenty of time to catch the man by himself. Even if it was in his classroom, she could sneak in and knock him out. But nope, he was always surrounded by people: students, teachers, parents. All the way to his car, he was engaged in one conversation or another. Maze followed his car, as well, but he got out in a crowded area and remained, still, with people for as long as she watched him.

The demon wouldn't care, normally, about the people around him, but there wasn't actually a warrant out for his arrest and she was warned that taking action before they had evidence could lead to an immediate dismissal. And killing him was, apparently, a no no. For now.

For three days she watched him, sitting on her motorcycle whenever she could. She wasn't on him 24/7, slipping away to guard Trixie or hang out with Linda, but this bastard had to be caught and Lucifer could pay the bills. He always had money, even working in a run down cafe. It was just part of who he was.

On the third night was when she picked up something interesting. The first was seeing a man in a police uniform step out of the building labeled “Heaven on Earth.” He hurried to his car with another man behind him, one Maze recognized as a nurse from the hospital Chloe stayed at. She was even sure she'd slept with him at one point, but that hardly mattered. It was important information as it provided opportunity to get medicine. 

This also meant Carmen was alone, at least by her calculations. The demon slid off her bike, shifting into the shadows as she approached the building. It was an old church, repurposed for his charity organization, which made many of the windows pointless as they were stained in religious imagery. However, it still aided in making it easier to hear through to the room, which was where she received the second bit of interesting tidbit.

“--understand your grief, but her death was an accident,” Carmen stated. Whoever he was talking to couldn't be heard, likely they were on a phone since Maze was positive no one else was in the building.

“No, the plan isn't pointless. It's quite clear the issue was she was dead before he could find her. You guys screwed up, that's all.” A pause as the other person replied, the sound slightly audible as they were clearly yelling. “I don't want to hear it. Look, I sent you a package as condolences for your loss. Share it with your friends. Then, I expect you guys to try again. Soon. Or I'm kicking you off of the case and all your efforts, all your sacrifices will have been for naught.” Another pause, this one brief and interrupted by Carmen's cynical laughter. “You're already damned, boy. Befriending the Devil? The only way to redemption is through this route. If you want to help your friends and yourself, you'll do as I say. This conversation is over. Good bye.”

Maze stepped back, pressing against the wall as she considered what she heard. Befriending the Devil? That meant it was likely someone Lucifer knew on the other end of the line. But who? A male, if she heard the 'boy' line right. Amenadiel and Daniel were out—one obviously wouldn't be tricked by this and the other just found out. You didn't fake that kind of reaction to realizing angels and demons exist. Though, Dan did take it better than most; Lucifer always commended the Douche for his strong willpower. Who else? Maze could only think of Trixie's friends: Noah, Jesus, and Christian. But if so, what were they planning? Or maybe there was someone else Lucifer knew that she hadn't met? Damn, there were too many pieces in this damn puzzle.

She needed to bring this information to someone else, someone who could better piece it together. Which meant that she left her post for now, driving back to talk with Chloe and the others.

*

Lucifer was not surprised when Chloe sent the message that the teens were under suspicion of working with Carmen. He felt resigned at her statement, as if it confirmed his own considerations, but there wasn't much he could do. He trusted Christian, and Jesus by proxy, but the latter wasn't completely off the hook yet. Noah was, however, the most likely with all the sleuthing they'd done—limited since none of them were actually on the case and Lucifer had been all but confined to the duplex, unable to return home yet and not wanting to go to Lux.

What was surprising was the other message he received the following night. Maryann inviting him out, claiming she needed to talk to him in the park close to the school. That she'd be waiting for him. He stared at the message for a long while before deciding he had to go there. He had to suss out their motives and the easiest way was face to face—or eye to eye, with his 'mojo'. So, the Devil sent a message to the Detective, letting her know his intentions, and left the teen on read before heading to what was obviously a trap. He'd gotten himself out of plenty of those, though. What could one high schooler do that a criminal mastermind couldn't?

By the time he arrived at the park, the sun had fully set and left behind a world of shadows. His nerves crawled and he forced himself forward, focusing on the very stable and not at all crumbling park structures. Certainly, his loop wouldn't have slides and monkey bars. It helped, but only barely. His trudging eventually guided him to a table where a box sat, but no person. The note scribbled on the top of the cardboard container simply read 'To Lu'.

A trap. Clearly. Shaky hands lifted the lid anyway.

Inside was definitely not what he expected, would never expect in a million lifetimes. A single, dull, bloodied feather with only the faintest light trickling out of it rested on a small velvet cushion. How the Hell did they get ahold of--

“Lu. Help.” A faint voice croaked out a plea as someone approached, gone unnoticed during his study of the 'gift'. Maryann stumbled into him, hand grabbing his arm as tightly as she could as she nearly fell. She felt cold, even to him. She was pale under her darker complexion. Lucifer caught her before she fully fell, trying to lift her. Dark eyes turned to them, already glossing over as she whispered “Save me. Please.”

Lucifer scrambled with one hand to grab his phone, patting his pockets twice before locating it and pulling it out. “Hold on, Maryann,” he demanded, clutching her cold body to him as he dialed the emergency number. It would be too late, though. Her life was already fading quickly in his arms.

“Your light, Lucifer, please,” the teenager breathed before her eyes closed completely and her body fell limp.

Lucifer was still holding her when the ambulance and the police showed up. He didn't acknowledge anyone when they approached, didn't hear them yell at him. Chloe and Daniel weren't among the police, he could recognize that much. Instead, he just hollowly let the first responders take the body when they pulled it from him and let the police guide him in the car without any resistance.

His mind was playing that scene over in his head. Only it was darker, the landscape different and the victim ever changing. He'd done that before, hadn't he? Held a body in his arms as it died, only a different person. And now she spoke the words Maryann had.

“Save me. Please.”

But he couldn't. He didn't. Because he had no idea how.

“Your light, Lucifer, please.”

He couldn't just heal anyone. There was one exception, and he still wasn't sure if there were any side effects. He still wouldn't risk it again.

But should he have?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (If anyone wants to reach me on Twitter, I now have an account there! Feel free to contact me at @Vaellin )


	28. More Information

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter! Woo! Nothing fancy to say other than I love you all!
> 
> Twitter: @Vaellin

"Arrested? Why was Lucifer arrested?" Chloe snapped as she stormed up to Wesson and Trent. Trent raised his hands, somewhere between a surrendering and soothing motion, but it was Wesson who answered, his voice quiet and raspy from ages of smoking.

"Just a holding cell for now, Detective Decker. Until we get all our facts straight. Things aren't looking good, though. He was found with the body and he refuses to give testimony. Considering the events of my other case, I wouldn't place my bets in him coming out of here without some kind of charge."

"It's just a precaution," Trent added. His words didn't have the intended effect of calming her, not when she knew he suspected Lucifer.

"Let me see him."

"Sure," Trent replied, shrugging. "But I don't think it'll do any good. When we said he wasn't giving testimony, it went beyond that. He hasn't spoken a word since we found them."

"I don't care. I'm going to see him." Chloe stormed past Trent, heading towards the overnight cells. The officer made to follow, but stopped when Wesson grabbed his shoulder, clearly needing to ask more questions. Decker was thankful for that. She wanted as small an audience as possible, especially considering recent events.

The cell was small, far too small for a man who usually had a presence that took over the room. The bed could comfortably fit an average sized man but, with the Devil laying on it, his feet dangled off the edge. Lucifer's back was to her, posture stiff yet slouched in defeat. He didn't seem to react to anything, but there was a subtle flinch at every slightly loud move within the area. It was a quiet night with probably two more people in the other cells, including one snoring off a drunken stupor. Chloe wasn't sure if that was a good thing, having less people to overhear her, or if she wanted more noise just to drown out their conversation.

"Lucifer." He flinched again, this time not so subtly. Then he pulled his knees up, back still towards her. "Lucifer, please, what happened? I don't think for an instant you hurt Maryann, but I can't convince the others without more information."

He remained still, almost catatonic. Chloe's heart hurt, tear welling up at the sight of the man. She banged her fist again the cage, feeling pain from the strike. A faint glow briefly shined under the skin. "Lucifer! Please! If you don't speak up the culprit will get away with it. Isn't it your job to punish evil? Don't those girls deserve better?" She swallowed around a lump in her throat. "Please, Lucifer. They need you. _I_ need you."

No response. She gripped the bars tightly for a few moments before stepping back, sniffing. Seeing him like this was too much. Him breaking down in front of her was too much. She wanted her partner back, and having him so close and yet unreachable was practically torture. "Fine. Fine, Lucifer. Take your time. I'll be there whenever you need me."

She left as quietly as possible, watching him until the last moment.

*

Trixie opened the door when she heard knocking, happy to escape Maze's prowling even for a moment. Mazikeen was great, but strangely overprotective whenever the mood fit her. It lent itself to training the teen some days, and hovering over her like a helicopter others. The presence of others was the only way to get breathing room.

"Hey, Noah! How are you holding up?" Trixie asked, recognizing the boy before fully noticing everything about him. She took in his distraught expression, bruised collar, and favored leg first. He was covered in dirt and looked winded, as if he'd been running nonstop for hours. His hands were clutching something in front of him, tiny white strands peaking out. "Noah. What happened?"

"Y-you haven't heard yet? Ma--we--I..." Noah began shaking and Trixie hurried rushed him in. Late June meant it wasn't cold, but she draped a blanket over him anyway. Maze watched him from the table, menacing expression on her face.

"Noah. You're fine," Trixie said. When he glanced at the demon, Trixie shot her a look before patting Noah on the shoulder. "Ignore her. She won't hurt you. I won't let her." He didn't look convinced, but took a deep breath and soldiered on anyway.

"We... We screwed up. Bi-Big time. And now... And now two of us are... Are dead." Tears began to spill over again and he tried to wipe his face, a struggle with his hands still having a death grip on their prize. Dread knotted Trixie's stomach but before she could speak he continued. "He was supposed to save us, supposed to heal us and redeem us with his light. That's what we were told. Light would save us. Take the last good from the Devil and... And... Oh God, but it didn't work. He wouldn't do it." Noah glanced around wildly. "No, it was like he _couldn't_ do it! I watched. I couldn't move, but I watched. Why didn't he do it? Why didn't he save her?"

Trix shifted uneasily, trying to take in his rambling, his speech hindered by tears and snot as he bawled. But if she got part of it right... "You... Tried to get Lucifer to heal you? Why?"

Noah glanced at his hands and then slowly, ever so slowly, opened them. Inside was a broken, bloodied version of Trixie's necklace. A small feather where the stem protruded from his palms, almost translucent. It still glowed, but dimly like a broken glowstick.

"Where... Where did you get that Noah?"

"It was a gift," the boy said, eyes drawn to it like it was a piece of Heaven plucked from the sky and given to him. In a way, it was. "A bit of divine light, taken from the Devil and given to the people. As a price for taking a life. It should... It should save lives but it's been too long. Too long. So long that it's powers diminished, but how could we know that's what it did?"

"What the Hell are you talking about?" Mazikeen hissed, standing up and stalking over to the two teenagers. She snatched the feather from him and growled. "Lucifer can't heal humans. His feathers only work on other divine beings and strong infernals." Noah's eyes widened in panic. "Yeah, humans can't handle the divine. Even looking at them makes them punch drunk. _Putting it into your system_? You humans would just... Pop." She gestured with one hand, creating a fake explosion with false fingers. "Or just die, separate your soul from your body. Who knows."

"What? But... But he healed Chloe Decker!"

"How did you find _that_ out?" Mazikeen's hand rested on a knife, Noah's gaze following the movement. "Actually, how did you find any of this out? Like Lucifer's feather or this whole hare brained scheme?" Trixie recognized Mazikeen's tone. The demon knew the answer, she just wanted her victim to spill the beans himself.

Noah's eyes went back to the feather. "Our teacher. Mr. Grant. He... He put us up to this." He shivered. "I... Even if Lu could heal us, I don't want any part of this anymore. It should be me who died, not Maryann. But she insisted. Said he was the best woman for the job. Oh, Maryann! I'm sorry!" Noah began sobbing again until a growl of annoyance from the demon cut him off. He sniffed and nodded. "I want him taken down, before he makes Esther do anything. I... I will do anything to help."

Trixie glanced at Mazikeen who shifted away from the group, grabbing a cup and filling it with water. After she shoved the drink into Noah's chest, she explained, "Go to the police, tell them everything. If I find out anything is missing, I will personally take off a finger for every lie or omitted line. Understood?"

Noah nervously grunted in affirmation before downing half the drink, coughing as he swallowed.

Mazikeen, deciding this was enough, turned to Trixie with a vicious grin. "Grab your knives and battle suit."

"What are we doing?" Trixie asked, though she hurried off to obey. Action meant she could think about Maryann later, focus on her efforts now.

"Us? We're going on your first bounty hunter job. We're taking Carmen Grant down."

*

Chloe wasn't sure when she'd fallen asleep, but she must have at one point because instead of a desk, too many paper cups of coffee, and the obvious gap between her and her coworkers as they avoided her, there was darkness. Darkness and piles of dust as far as the eye could see. 

Lucifer's Hell Loop. At least, if her memory of Amenadiel's description was accurate. He wasn't in Hell, but still relieved it as a short, nightly rerun. She'd been here once, barred from going further by Uriel, and seen glimpses of it in the dreams. The landscape instead of LA, the crumbling bars. Whenever something bothered him, he returned to his torture as some sort of demented reprieve, as if punishing himself was a way of evening things in real life. Guilt was a driving force of Hell, so in a way it made sense. He needed to overcome that guilt to move on.

So he needed to forgive himself for killing his brother? That was likely the primary problem, as if the rest just fed off of his original... Sin. Oh that was horrible wording.

As she mulled over this, she explored the hills and mountains, taking an odd footpath barely visible in the dim light. The closer to the center she got, or what she assumed would be the center, the smaller the piles got until eventually she could see the top and see an assortment of items littering each one. When they were down far enough, she inspected them. Crude children's drawings and paper knives. DVDs of action films and plastic waffles--or she hoped they were plastic. Cutesy shirts and a slab of wood. Books and abstract art pieces. Handcuffs, leather jackets, and a very specific necklace. So many items that were a mixture of significant and insignificant, each obviously a part of what made Lucifer's human friends. And he'd been forced to watch them die again and again.

Losing Trixie once would destroy her, even if she knew it was fake.

"You can't be here," Uriel stated, startling Chloe out of her thoughts as she turned to face the deceased angel. 

"You've said that before. Lucifer needs me, though."

"I know," Uriel replied, looking at her sadly, pitifully. "That's why you can't go."

"What? This isn't even his actually Hell Loop! He doesn't need to be punished anymore!"

"I'm aware. Doesn't matter. My job here is simple, and I intend to uphold it no matter where I'm brought in."

His job was to kill them in revenge. Chloe's arm darted down to her gun, pleased to find its steady weight there as she aimed it towards the angel. Uriel just looked at her, tired.

"That won't work on me. I don't even really exist, Chloe."

"I don't care. I won't let you kill me."

Uriel snorted. "Kill you? Oh, I assure you that _I_ am not the one who will have that pleasure. Well, except maybe once." He tapped the sword in his chest absently and then spread his wings out, blocking the way forward entirely. "No, I'm just here to make sure things go as planned. Lucifer needs to be reminded just why it is he should remain in Hell for all eternity."

"You don't know what you're talking about. Just how well do you even know your brother? I talked with Amenadiel and Maze, I know you all abandoned him after his Fall."

"True. But you forget one major thing. I'm not actually Uriel." The angel sighed dramatically. "I'm an Uriel imagined by Lucifer. Meaning, the reminder isn't coming from me but Lucifer himself."

"I don't believe that."

"Denial is very hard to overcome." He took a step forward and she shot, the sound of the bullet echoing in the expanse of nothingness and dust. He flinched back but otherwise appeared undeterred. "I already told you it's pointless. Just turn around and--"

Chloe moved to a mound of dust, apologizing to it as she attempted to scale it. However, instead of moving up it, she fell through, disappearing into the dust itself. It collapsed around her like a pile of leaves would, burying her in the gray particles. For a moment, she held her breath, trying not to let the dust suffocate her, but it didn't even bother her. It was dry to the touch, but lingered in the pile, creating almost a pocket for her to exist.

Right. Dream logic. Or something like that? She shifted to a crouching position, moving through the dust and very specifically not thinking of what they were. More objects littered the stacks as she burrowed through her path, which she gently pushed aside.

Uriel didn't follow. She didn't know what happened, but after what felt like an hour of crawling, the detective finally stepped out of the dust to get a view of her surroundings.

On either side of her were the expansive dust landscapes, but for once she was given a large space to walk around. An elevator door stood behind her, unattached to anything. And a light floated right next to her, like a mini sun that she could stare straight at. She made to walk down her large path, and the light followed her.

"What the..." Chloe faced the orb, frowning at it. It bounced slightly in her vision and seemed to be... Laughing? At her? It didn't seem malicious but...

The detective studied herself, holding her arms in front of her and looking at the doors to see a blurry version of her reflection. She was _covered_ in gray. Trying to wipe it off seemed futile as she just smeared the dust. The light continued to bounce and laugh. "Oh shove it. It's not like you haven't been covered in worse."

Wait, that wasn't quite right. Chloe stared at the light, frowning as she realized it felt familiar, warm. It seemed to reach out to her and she could feel kindness and care before it engulfed her. Gentle touches slid over her body, unobtrusive but determined. As it floated back, she felt one last touch brush her hair over her ear. The detective froze, staring and wondering what exactly was going on.

"I said you can't be here," snarled Uriel as he stepped out from behind the elevator door. The orb of light floated between the two of them, bobbing angrily now. Uriel hesitated at the sight of the light before finally holding up his hands. "Fine. Just. This. Once." He stepped back behind the door, vanishing entirely. 

Chloe smiled softly at the mini-star. "Thank you."

It bobbed in acknowledgement then floated ahead, moving far faster than she could to the far distance, never getting smaller or dimmer as it flew out of reach. The detective tried to follow, hurrying down the dark path, lit only by her distant and familiar friend.

Then she finally found him, kneeling on the ground with a fresh pile of dust and another Chloe standing over him, gun pointed at the Devil's head.

*

Noah had spent three hours talking his throat raw, drowning himself in grief, guilt, and ice water. Esther was unreachable, but Christian and Jesus had arrived thirty minutes ago. Jesus appeared upset as well, seeming unsure how to react to the story Noah had painted for them. Christian, however, was furious.

"What the hell were you guys thinking? Why the hell would you do this?" he snapped not for the first time. Noah just stared at his hands, traces of the feather still there. Christian groaned at the reaction and stomped off. At Jesus calling out, the man shot back "I'm going to see if they'll let me visit Lu."

Noah sniffed and Jesus shifted to sit next to him. Jesus rested a hand on his shoulder, patting the younger teen gently before pushing forward. "You really think he's the Devil? Why?"

"We were given _proof_ ," Noah muttered. "I can't show you; Maze took it from me, but Mr. Grant showed all of us a feather that glowed. It was... Divine." He tried to keep the dreamy tone out of his voice. His dreams had ended, after all. He was going to Hell. For befriending the Devil, for letting his friends die, for failing his mission.

"He never showed me anything like that," Jesus mused.

"You just... Happened to be gone. I think... I think he couldn't show Trixie. She already knew and he couldn't..." Noah swallowed. "Be used like us. It was the first club meeting, when you guys couldn't make it."

"Oh. Because of Lu," Jesus replied. Noah shrugged. He didn't know why they had left early, and hadn't cared after what he'd seen other than to share it. But he'd been sworn to secrecy. "You've known for a while then. Why... Why act now?"

"Because we needed to get away. We'd doubted... We'd doubted Mr. Grant still. Lu was nice, after all, and didn't seem to push us into anything. Really, we were the ones pushing him. But it was all a lie." Noah tightened his hand around the dixie cup, rendering it useless. "He hurt Trix. Just crushed her like it was nothing and then he just ran, avoided his dues. And his eyes... Those weren't the eyes of a friend, Jesus."

"Maybe, but Lu was scared. He didn't mean to hurt Trixie and he felt bad about it. We know that. That's why he has his breakdowns. Because he thinks he hurt someone?"

"Do we? We know nothing about him." Noah shook his head slowly. "It doesn't matter though. By the end of tomorrow, my life is over."

"You're not thinking of--"

"No! No. No. I won't. I meant I confessed to my crimes. I'm turning myself in. I can only hope Esther follows before she does something rash."

And even if he thought Lu was a monster for a short period of time, seeing that man grieve Maryann had brought Noah back to reality. Bringing justice to light was the least he could do.


	29. It's a start

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is admittedly a bit of an interesting one. Due to perspective changes, it tends to jump a bit. Let me know if it's confusing and I'll see what I can do--rearrange it or something.
> 
> Also, advance note, I know nothing about cigarettes so if my information about it sounds BS-y, sorry!
> 
> _UPDATE: There is no chapter update today (Sunday) as I've been busy and haven't had enough time to update. I will have one posted tomorrow and on your regularly scheduled Thursday still. Sorry for the delay_

"Drop the gun," Chloe hissed, aiming her own weapon at her doppelganger.. The blonde before her turned angry eyes upwards, gun still pointed carefully at the man between them. Distantly, the light pulsed worriedly.

"Detective?" Lucifer croaked, his voice dry. At least he was responding here. He lifted his head, taking in the sight of two Chloes. Both angry but at two very different targets. Still, it took no effort for him to identify the real Chloe, brown eyes locked onto her with a quick frown. "What are you doing here?"

"Really? We've been sharing dreams for a while now, haven't we?"

"Ah. A dream. Yes, I guess that explains it."

"You deserve to die and go back to Hell," fake-Chloe snarled.

"Excuse me?" Chloe questioned, raising an eyebrow at her twin. Her skin crawled at the words spoken with her voice. He'd done that before, to save her, and she knew he'd do it again if she demanded it. That wasn't what she wanted, though. "Really, Lucifer, you think I'd ever say that?"

Lucifer flicked his gaze between the two. "Yes? No. Not unless forced to but... I..."

"You what? _Want_ to die?"

"No." Lucifer growled. "Maybe. I just want..." He sighed, the eyes he cast skyward looking ancient suddenly. "I'm tired, Detective. I'm tired of being the villain, tired of screwing up my attempts at being anything more, tired of failing you."

"Failing? Whoever said you were failing, Lucifer?" Chloe whispered, stepping closer.

"You've hurt so many people," her lookalike hissed and Chloe groaned angrily.

"Oh, shut up! You don't speak for me! You don't speak for anyone! You're just some... Idiotic illusion!"

"I speak the tru--"

Chloe pulled the trigger, watching the fake her step back, expression in shock as she fell backwards. Lucifer gasped, shouting her title as he attempted to go after her, but the real detective stepped in the way, pulling him into an awkward hug. Despite his ability to easily overpower her, he stopped, a strangle noise breaking from his throat. "I'm sorry, I know that must have bothered you but she needed to go. She's not me, Lucifer. She's not real."

The Devil made a pitiful noise and Chloe pulled him closer, tears forming in her own eyes at just how desperate he seemed. He knew the other Chloe wasn't real, but Chloe understood his pain. So she wept, for him since she knew he'd be too stubborn to let himself go in this situation.

The light hummed over her shoulder, seeming to cry with them.

*

It was still dark when Trixie and Mazikeen broke into the church. There was a quiet, gentle, snoring sound from one of the benches and a few feet dangled off the edges into the aisle. The two girls, pressed into the shadows, were nearly invisible in their dark clothes but so were the people here, hidden by the backs of the furniture.

"Seven," Maze whispered into the teen's ear. "Seven people sleeping in here. And they all reek of sweat and dirt."

Trixie wrinkled her nose, grateful she could barely smell whatever Mazikeen could. Not that the demon seemed terribly bothered by their stench. They crept along the wall. The demon's steps sure and silent while Trixie's were subdued, but slightly audible in the quiet, dusty building. A few creaks didn't give her away, thankfully, as they moved beyond the crowd.

The demon led the way to a door in the back, easily opening it with a hairpin. She muttered something about hating the necessity of silence here, preferring to storm and take them all out, but set about her task with determination nevertheless. As the door swung open, light hit their faces, a multitude of colors painting them.

"I knew you'd figure it out eventually," Carmen said, sighing from the corner of the room as he studied them. He smiled sadly. "But did you have to bring the girl, Demon?"

*

Why did he have to see her die so many times? Shot, stabbed, and always he had to just watch as the light faded in her eyes. This time, her body flying back was too similar to that time in the loft, just like Maryann in the park was too similar to Uriel's attack before Amenadiel showed up. How many times would he fail her? How many times would he suffer her loss?

"She's not real. I'm fine." Chloe's voice whispered, sobbed, into his ear. Why was saying that? She was the one in pain, fading into darkness, crumbling into nothing. His arm wrapped around her, almost involuntarily. Warm. Warm and solid. He buried his face into her shoulder, shaking and craving the heat she provided.

After a while, she pulled back slightly, earning a whine from the Devil for the loss of touch. Chloe smiled faintly, eyes and cheeks still wet, before leaning in again to press her lips against his forehead. "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere, Lucifer. You made sure of that, remember?"

He did. But he'd taken her from Paradise.

Yet, it wasn't something he alone wanted. The Spawn had been there too, as broken as he over the potential loss of someone so wonderful, so caring.

Summoned by the thought of her, a young Trixie manifested beside them, gazing at them with an arm in a cast. Chloe cast a glance at her daughter, a mixture of apprehension and love. "Trixie?"

What could he say? The Spawn was just as kind as her mother. He'd hurt her, but instead of hating him she worried about him. Her friend died, but Trixie shoved aside her own pain to make sure everyone, including the Devil, was okay too. No doubt she was suffering, but like her mother she was strong and loving. A broad grin, complete with missing teeth, spread across her face.

"You're safe!" she cheered, surprising Lucifer and Chloe by wrapping her arms around them. 

Lucifer hunched his shoulders though, pulling away and earning a frown from the two ladies. If her shadow couldn't say it, he would have to. Eyes cast on the ground he spoke to them. "I don't deserve either of you."

Chloe furrowed her brow, standing up and holding onto her daughter's hand tightly. "You've said that before. A long time ago. Don't we get to decide that? Can't we choose you?"

A pulsing light echoed her thoughts.

*

Esther knew what she had to do and knew she only had one chance to do it. She crouched low in the wardrobe, gun pressed against her chest, barrel towards the wall. One chance and she couldn't screw it up. She had to do it. She _had_ to. For Maryann.

Through the slots in the door, Esther watched as Maze stood up, Trixie right behind her. Both held knives and seemed calm in light of the gun that Mr. Grant now aimed at the older woman. Esther held her breath, listening.

"You're a real bastard, you know that," Mazikeen growled, her voice deep and barely human sounding. It was as if she'd gargled a cup of rocks before speaking.

"For what? For bringing light to a few children, truth?" Mr. Grant replied casually, his voice silky in contrast.

"Truth?" Trixie gasped, stomping her foot angrily as she attempted to step forward. The huntress' arm stopped her, held out to the side as Trixie hissed over it. "You told them being friends with Lu would damn them! You tricked them into thinking they had to hurt Lu and themselves in order to be saved!"

"They would be saved! If that bastard wasn't a coward and hiding his real self, he'd save them! Heal them, if he really cared!" Carmen roared, standing up with his gun still steady. "But that bastard cares about no one but himself! He takes what he wants and leaves you empty, dead, lost. But he's the Devil! What else would you expect?"

"You really think Lucifer is hiding himself? After all this damn time?"Mazikeen retorted. "You think it's fear of being found out that stays his hand? Are you insane?"

Carmen sniffed and Esther pulled back slightly, listening rather than seeing. Her hands shook but she remembered to keep her finger away from the trigger. Tears formed and her nose began to run as she thought of their struggles, but she managed to stay quiet.

"I'm not asking for the world, Demon," Carmen stated simply, his voice back to controlled and inviting. "All want is a piece of divinity. To share with humanity. To share with those poor, broken people out in the church, with the children who befriended an angel. Don't we deserve happiness?"

"Happiness? Happiness by sacrificing others is just selfish, evil even," Trixie said. "You think you deserve anything good after taking away so much joy from others?"

"Sacrifices _have_ to be made. It's for the greater good."

Maze snarled. "For the greater go--"

Esther didn't hear the rest of the sentence, pointing her gun and shutting her eyes as she pulled the trigger. Two loud bangs echoed in the room and the startled cry from everyone sounded like a disturbing choir.

*

Lucifer twitched his hands, his feet, his head, fidgeting as if staying still was a struggle. He wanted to pace, Chloe could tell, but wouldn't. Eventually, he huffed and tossed his hands in the air. "Why would you?"

"Seriously? You say that after everything you've done?"

A growl, deep and monstrous. "Everything I've done? You mean endangered you, your child, your friends? Cain shot you because he was after me. Professor Carlisle poisoned you because I sent you after him. These kids are being killed because someone wants _my power_!"

"You're still blaming yourself for others actions," Chloe replied. "How about the things _you've_ done? I mean, convinced kids to start a drug farm, snorted evidence, intimidated innocent people. That you could be ashamed of." He flinched back slightly, but seemed more confused than ashamed. Chloe pushed forward, stepping up next to him again, forcing him to look her in the eye. "You've also saved my life. Four times by my count, maybe more. Been there as a shoulder to cry on. Supported my daughter during trying times. Helped seek justice for _countless_ people, from victims to survivors. You've never been a monster to anyone who hadn't earned it, to those who wronged others in the worst way possible. How about that? That's what you've done."

"I lied to you."

"You never lie."

"By omission!" Lucifer growled again, eyes flaring red as if to scare her off, make her step back. Instead, she stepped forward again, holding onto his arm in comfort as she pressed her body carefully against his. A real presence, a pillar of support. "I knew you didn't believe me!"

"But you were going to tell me. You'd always planned on it. It just took courage." Chloe snorted, a small laugh escaping her as she smiled fondly at a memory. "We couldn't even tell each other our feelings and you expected to be brave enough to prove you were the Devil?"

"Those are two entirely separate issues."

"You're right." Chloe took a deep breath, considering their moment so long ago on the balcony. He was trying both back then, to admit his feelings and make her believe. He just didn't know how. "One requires trust, and I clearly failed in that department."

"Detective you didn't--"

"I rejected you, Lucifer. And, for a moment, I was legitimately scared of you. I'm the one who hurt you, not the other way around." She laughed, realizing she was tearing up again. "No wonder you didn't let me know you were back. No wonder you can't look me in the eye anymore. Unless forced to."

*

"So what do you think?" Trent asked, sitting on Wesson's desk. Chloe was out, head propped on a pillow provided by Ella. A good thing as she had a bad habit of interfering. "About Lucifer Morningstar and those teenagers?"

Wesson hummed, scratching at his beard. "I don't think he did it."

"What? You can't seriously believe those kids, though? I mean, 'he's the Devil and we killed each other to get him to heal us.' That's... Dumb and counter-productive!" Trent raised an eyebrow at the older man who merely shrugged.

"People have believed weirder things. And besides, what reason would young Noah have to lie?"

"Maybe he's being blackmailed."

"Maybe, but that kind of lie? It sounds so far out there it's hard to believe they'd lie like that. Besides..."

"Besides?"

"I trust Chloe Decker. She's proven herself and her own intuition. Yes, I'm hesitant since she's close with the suspect, but I won't discount her opinion either." The detective yawned, tipping back the remains of his coffee and then continuing. "Doesn't matter though. I'll follow the evidence. If it proves he _is_ the culprit, then that's that. If not, then he'll be set free. I trust our system."

"What if nothing comes up in either direction?"

"We have Miss Lopez. She'll find something."

"If she doesn't?"

"Then he'll probably be set free, Trent," Wesson groaned, rubbing his forehead as if the officer was giving him a headache. "Innocent until _proven_ guilty. If all we have is testimony, he'll probably worm his way out of a guilty sentence anyway. Not only does he know the system, I imagine, but if I recall correctly he has deep pockets."

"We shouldn't let people like him get away with their crimes," Trent muttered. Damn these people who didn't know. The Devil didn't give two damns about people dying, and they'd just let him get away because there was no proof. The fact he didn't do it was beside the point, Trent thought. Lucifer was the root of all evil, after all.

"I have evidence!" cheered a bright scientist, practically skipping to the desk with several files in her hands. Both men turned to her as she slapped the papers on Wesson's desk.

"Evidence?" Trent asked, stomach dropping. He'd worked with Ella long enough to know her abilities. Damn, this plan was crumbling fast. Far too fast. He couldn't get his feet under him. And he seemed so close! With Lucifer arrested and found at the scene of the crime, holding the victim! Damn, damn, damn.

"Yes! The Fire Inspectors came back with a report on the cause of the explosion and--bam!--it was a cigarette!" Ella slammed her hand on the paper. 

"A cigarette? So, Lucifer set the fire. Clearly. He's known to be a smoker."

"Wrong! They sent back the contents left, of what they could find, and guess what? It was a cheap-o brand! Menthol even! Lucifer smokes only the best. Plus, the butt they found? Partial print doesn't match Lucifer's on file. While only partial we can't be completely certain, but you know what I think?"

"It's the victim's," Wesson stated, slipping the papers out from under the forensic scientist's hand.

"Bingo! So here's what happened, according to my information and Noah's testimony. Sarah went to the cafe early morning to inject herself with the poison. Dumb, yes, but it wasn't a lethal dose so she'd be fine if a bit uncomfortable. Except, after injecting--or maybe just before--she lights up a cigarette. To calm her nerves. But as the tubocurarine takes effect, her muscles seize up and she drops the cigarette! It lands on the propane takes and--boom!--hole in cafe and poor dead teen."

"That sounds... Incredibly speculative." Trent narrowed his eyes at Ella, wondering if that was what happened. Sarah had taken the medicine, but the explosion was indeed a surprise. It made a startling amount of sense, given the information he had that she didn't.

"If you have a better idea, feel free to let me know. This lines up with the scene as well as Noah's confession."

"Okay, but what about the second crime? There was no explosion and no syringe."

"I haven't gotten there, yet, but if Noah was at the scene it wouldn't be unreasonable if he took the syringe."

"Why not bring it in, then, when he turned himself in?"

"I don't know! Fine, maybe they have another co-conspirator! A first responder or an officer! They took the syringe before anyone noticed!"

Okay, this line of questioning was getting dangerous. "Sounds implausible. I mean, they claimed Carmen Grant manipulated them into it, but we have a list of the people he associated with. None of them had any real occupation."

"Maybe the name was left off the book. Maybe it's someone really close. I mean, it may explain the feather Noah said he found." Lopez was now pacing, tapping a lightsaber pen on her chin as she brainstormed.

Wesson looked up from his papers. "Feathers? What do you mean?"

"Well, Noah said he had a feather, right? Proof of the Devil or whatever. It's been a long time, but there's one incident I can think of that had a lot of feathers and was connected to Lucifer. Only hole in that logic was that it certainly didn't seem like proof to _me_. But maybe Carmen Grant has some trick up his sleeve."

Trent's stomach dropped, that first phone call he ever had with Carmen Grant coming back to him. He hadn't thought them special at first either, until he remembered that face. He saw at the feathers differently then, held them up and concentrated, saw them glow even tainted by monster blood. He felt both peace and terror, nausea twisting him as he unconsciously bagged as many feathers as he could before forensics took them. But he had to get rid of them. He couldn't bear to be near a piece of evil for too long. Only someone who saw the angel first could.

Lopez pointed her lightsaber at Wesson, grin wide on her face and oblivious to the horror on Trent's. "The scene where the lieutenant was killed. There were feathers _all over the place_. And I bet we still have them in evidence."

*

"Detective," Lucifer rasped, taking in the blue eyes that hurt for him, cared for him. "You can't honestly believe that."

"I haven't stopped regretting the way I treated you since that day, Lucifer," Chloe replied. "But, I want to make up for it." She reached a hand up, touching his face and bringing that warmth with her. He resisted the urge to pull her into another embrace. The surrounding area was nothing but ice, but here was an inferno.

"Detective, I never once blamed you." No, he didn't lie. "Okay, maybe a little, but I also understood. My... Face is used to scare people for a reason, to remind them who the true monster is."

"You're not a monster, Lucifer." He opened his mouth to counter her but Chloe shook her head. "You only play the part. If you were, then you wouldn't care about me, about Trixie, about everyone around you. But you do. And right now you thinking helping means staying away. But I don't want that. I am tired of you running." She tightened her grip on his arm and this time he let it slide around her waist, pulling her that last bit of space into him. 

"I don't want to run, Detective, but... I don't know how to face you."

"You could try. Try to look me in the eye, try to talk to me, try not to run."

"I have been!"

"No you haven't! Maybe once or twice, Lucifer, and I know it hurts, but you're stronger than this!" She rubbed her thumb on his cheek, pained expression while still locking eyes with him. He couldn't escape if he wanted to. Here, she had him. "Don't run, talk us through it. Get help. More than just a couple teenagers who understand. Real help."

He shivered. He wanted to agree, to promise, but he knew he couldn't. When the worst attacks came, he lost control of all his senses. Lucifer already hurt one person during that, and he wouldn't forgive himself if it happened again. Still, swallowing around a lump in his throat, he ventured for a middle ground. "I'll try to talk to Linda," he whispered. If she'll talk to him. Last time they saw each other, he shattered someone's arm. "And... I'll only leave if it gets bad. Real bad." Another swallow. His throat felt so constricted, emotion catching there. "But, if I need space, please..."

"I'll give it to you. I'll do whatever I can to help too."

He nodded, finally breaking eye contact as he breathed out a heavy sigh and close his eyes. The Devil felt every year of his long life weigh on him, but there was one major truth. "It's a start."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Twitter: @Vaellin
> 
> _UPDATE: There is no chapter update today (Sunday) as I've been busy and haven't had enough time to update. I will have one posted tomorrow and on your regularly scheduled Thursday still. Sorry for the delay_


	30. It hurts like Hell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry again for the late chapter. Regular update still on Thursday

The ringing in her ears remained as Trixie pulled herself up off the floor slowly. She swore she heard two gunshots but didn't see the source of the second immediately. Her broken arm ached from landing on it when Maze shoved her down, but she pushed herself through the pain. The demon already had launched to her feet, knife in hand and blood trailing down her arm from the first shot. Mr. Grant was forced upright by the knife but his leg shook from effort. A quick glance showed where the second bullet had landed. His pants were stained around the knee of his left leg. Trixie winced in sympathy.

Then she felt someone grab her injured limb, her vision going white as she was violently tugged back into another man's grip. A yelp of her name brought Maze's attention back to the teen, a scowl as the hunter realized what happened. The gunshot had woken the crowd sleeping in the main room. Trixie whimpered involuntarily at the pain, pushing back against her captor.

“Call them off,” Maze growled, turning back to Grant and pressing the knife close enough to his neck to draw a sliver of blood. The man swallowed, his skin pulsing against the blade.

Trixie shifted, using her good arm to twist her captor's hand before elbowing him in the gut. The moment let her slip out and stumble forward, pulling her own knife out as she faced the men. There were a fair bit of them, crowded around the door to at least funnel them in one by one so maybe she could hold them off one-handed, but certainly not without further injury.

“Call them off,” Maze repeated, though she flashed a smug grin at Trixie's escape. “Or I'll slice your neck open right now. You're lucky I need you alive and arrested, but if she gets hurt that need may simply change to an inconvenience. And I don't take too kindly to inconveniences.” To emphasize this, the demon leaned in closely, teeth flashing like fangs.

“D-down,” Grant yelped. He glanced at the group who hesitated. “I said stand down! Do you want to see me dead?”

They obliged by stepping away and Maze did too, though she held tightly onto Grant's shoulder, forcing down his left side to stand on the bleeding leg. “Good. Now, you're coming with me. Come on Trix!”

Trixie nodded, though stalled on her way out by the closet, a hole in it about the size of a bullet. Slowly, she opened the door to find a cowering Esther. The sight of her friend, safe and sound, made Trixie breathe a sigh of relief, a weight off her shoulders. “Thank goodness, Esther.” She offered her hand but the other girl pulled away, black hair covering her features as she shivered in shame.

“Esther. Please. We were worried about you. And we need you.”

Quietly, the girl nodded, though she didn't take the offered hand as she pulled herself up and trudged out the door, Trixie behind. The crowd glared at them, a couple muttering about if the 'stand down' demand was in place. A quick glance at Maze standing at the entrance kept them from striking, thankfully.

“Ah, found the missing one? Good. Time to get a move on.”

*

Christian leaned against the bars, talking quietly to the sleeping man behind him. He wasn't sure what he was going to say originally and had somehow started rambling about his family. It helped, calmed him down from the insanity of what had been happening around him. The Devil? Dead friends? A cult? Damnation? Seriously, who the hell believed all that? Christian was religious but even he wouldn't fall for such tricks. His friends, as far as he knew, were not. Though, to be fair, the topic didn't usually come up in casual conversation.

“I just don't know why they'd target you. Sure, you call yourself Lucifer—or your parents did—but you're hardly the first. I've heard of a guy called Satan and that's certainly a more evil sounding version of the Devil.” He sighed. “Maybe it was just a matter of convenience. But why us? Or them, rather. Too little adds up.”

Trixie often went along with Lu's comments about being the Devil, too. Did she believe him? The man had family, even if not blood related. Did they believe him too or at least humor him? Then what, do they pretend to be angels? Christian groaned, now imagining a whole family of angels living in the city, going around and blessing people except one that randomly opened a coffee shop. Because that made sense.

A faint glow distracted him, the sound of wind interrupting his thoughts. Christian glanced around for the source, turning back to Lucifer who had rolled onto his back, eyes open and gazing upwards. For a brief moment, a fading light seemed to emanate from the man himself. But a blink later and it was gone. Oh God, Noah's craziness was rubbing off on Christian.

“Lu? Are you okay?”

“I'm almost certain that question is now on the 'frequently asked questions' page of my life,” Lu groaned, putting a hand over his face. “To answer it, no I'm not bloody okay.” More quietly he added “but I'm working on getting better.”

Christian shifted uneasily, that light staying with him despite it being only a moment. That was insane, though. “Okay, well I'm here for you.”

“How on earth did you get to the holding cells anyway, Christian?” the man questioned, pushing himself into a sitting position.

“I had to pretty much beg, but I think the guard sympathized with us.” Christian offered his boss a quick, small smile. “And you're only suspected, not actually convicted. With Noah's confession, I think they're going to let you off.”

“Noah's? Hm,” Lu replied. “Wonder what caused him to do that.”

“You did, apparently.”

A shift in Lu's posture was subtle, but the teen had spent enough time watching the shop owner to recognize the rare emotion. Hope. Light. Something he only ever seemed to embrace when Trixie was around. “I see. I... thank you, Christian.”

“Yeah. Sure, no problem.”

*

After a quick medical treatment, Grant had been moved to the interrogation room, hands cuffed onto the table and leg bandaged. Trent walked in casually, clipboard in hand and attempting not to look at the man before him.

They both knew what this meeting was. For years, they built a small empire in the underground of LA, using the most desperate and giving them what they thought they'd never have, showing it in physical form. Their lives were so entangled that it was hard to see where one ended and the other began, especially in their plots. One man who dreamed of divinity, eternal life, and a blessing only bestowed upon saints and the other a man determined to end all evil, destroy the root and raze the land it was on to ensure it was dead. Their goals were vastly different, but the end result was the same. Use Lucifer's power, use his weakness to gain from him.

Unfortunately, there'd been a long implication that if one failed, if one got caught, the other would likely fall with them. Trent could not allow that to happen, but there weren't many more cards for him to play.

“Carmen Grant. I hear the bullet just grazed you, is that right?”

“Grazed?” the man snapped. “It went right through my damned knee!”

“Ah, my mistake. You seem fine, now, though.” The officer glanced at the leg. “Didn't hit your knee cap, miraculously.”

“It hurts like Hell.”

“I'm quite sure we know that's not true. But, you'll know for sure, I guess. Eventually,” Trent drawled, noting the glare being sent his way and trying not to grin at successfully goading his former ally. “Lucky for you, I think we can come to an agreement.”

Grant hesitated, clearly wondering what Trent was implying. Agreement on his arrest or agreement on what they were going to do about Hell, or whatever. “What are you implying?”

Trent paced casually, flipping over files idly. “I have one last strategy that I think will work. It's the most likely to succeed, I believe, out of all our plans, but failing could spell the end for me. Which is why I had kept quiet about it as we gathered information. The more we knew, the more likely I could pull it off anyway.”

“A chance to succeed?” Grant asked hopefully.

“Yes. At getting what we want. But I can't do that if they suspect me before I even get started.”

Grant frowned, nodding in understanding. “Yes, of course. How long until you complete it?”

“A couple months at the very least, but no less than a year.”

“A year? We don't have a year. What he if leaves before--”

“I'll make sure it's done before the Devil returns home. I have to. For my own mission.” Trent scowled at Grant, trying to remind the man that they had mutual journeys, but not destinations. Sometimes, Trent's passive attitude in Grant's antics resulted in forgetting that. “And if I do succeed, you'll have more power than you ever dreamed you'd get. Eternal life, not just for you but for everyone you care to have join you. Your original prize, returned.” Trent leaned against the table, his smile sinister. “I'm going to get you Lucifer's wings.”

*

The sound of the guard calling for someone to stop alerted both men to look as Trixie bolted down the steps, a police officer close behind her. Trixie bolted past Lucifer's cage initially, stopping only when the guard grunted in surprise, a hand reaching through the bars to catch the officer.

“Now, now, none of that. The Spawn is simply here to visit. We already have one teen here, what's the harm in one more?” Lucifer cooed, catching the guard's eye with a small grin.

“It's not that, sir, I have to clear everyone and if I let too many people in, I could lose my job.”

“Your job? I'm sure that's important, but it's not really what you care about, now is it?” the Devil asked, his magic reaching out and ensnaring his victim. Trixie had heard about his trick, his 'mojo', but never seen it in action. Seeing the man fold like a house of cards was intriguing. Christian almost seemed enthralled as well, unable to tear his eyes away from Lucifer.

“No. No it's not.”

“And what is it you care about? Hm? Tell me, what do you desire?” Lucifer pulled the words out of the man sweetly.

“I... I want to adopt a dog.”

“Oh? Well, I can't say I understand the sentiment, but what's stopping you? Go, get yourself one of man's best friends. If they aren't open now, I'm certainly you could prepare for it. Get provisions or something. They need food and other things.” Lucifer waved the man off almost dismissively. The guard nodded, suddenly excited as he returned to the entrance and grabbed his phone, browsing online stores for dog items. Trixie swore she caught a glimpse of costumes first, from vampire to princess.

“What was that?” Christian gasped.

“Ah, sorry, I suppose I haven't been in the mood to pull that trick often,” Lu noted, leaning back and sitting on his bed again. “To explain, I have a gift in pulling out people's desires. Their inner most secrets. That was the trick.”

“Mom calls it his 'mojo.' It was one of the reasons he was a really good consultant, among others,” Trixie stated proudly.

“It's like... hypnotic.”

“Mm. Well, onto more important things. Like, Beatrice, why did you raid Maze's wardrobe for an outfit?” The Devil glanced at her appraisingly. “I can't say I disapprove. It looks dangerous and functional, but hardly your style.”

Christian, Trixie noted, was also looking her up and down, a bit of red tinging his face before he averted his eyes. Sleek leather with Kevlar plating over important body parts and multiple knife sheaths so she could pack as many blades as necessary. It was comfortable to move in, if hot.

“You look like a SWAT agent combined with Catwoman,” Christian muttered.

“Is that a bad thing?”

“For Maze? No,” Lucifer replied, a frown on his face as he stepped forward again. “Christian, could you do me a favor and fetch the Detective? Knowing her, she's passed out on her desk after working herself half to death.”

“Uh, sure, no problem.” Christian glanced one last time at Trixie's attire before hurrying off.

“Why'd you send him away?” Trixie asked when Christian had completely vanished.

Lucifer waved a hand in the air vaguely before stating in a tone that implied he wasn't actually answering her question. “I need to know. What brings you down here, risking the wrath of the guard and dressed as an armored leather warrior?”

“Oh, I wanted to tell you we found Esther and caught Mr. Grant!” Trixie cheered, grinning brightly.

“Ah, so everyone's accounted for? I heard Noah was here with a confession. I assume Jesus followed Christian, too.”

“I'm not sure,” Trixie admitted, suddenly dread filling her stomach at not being completely sure of a friend's location. “Lucifer, what if he's in danger? What if he's missing and planning something... something...”

She hadn't heard the sound of the door opening, but was full aware of Lucifer kneeling in front of her, eyes catching hers and hands wiping away tears. “Lucifer,” she continued, sobbing uncontrollably now that the damn was broken. “Lucifer, Sarah... Maryann... I couldn't protect them. They're gone. I'll never see them again.”

Gently, the Devil shook his head, his other hand coming up to hold her head carefully. His eyes seemed to water a bit as well as he smiled softly. “You will one day. One day the three of you, no the seven of you will be reunited. I'm sure of it.”

The flood started harder as she continued crying, her arms flinging around the man in front of her. She felt arms wrap around her in turn, pulling her closer to the warmth he provided. “I don't want that either! I don't want to be separated from you, too, Lucifer!” she wailed, hating herself for acting like a kid. But Lucifer simply held her, rubbing her back as she cried.

“I don't want that either, Beatrice. But I'll find a way. If I have to tear down the gates of Heaven itself, I'll make sure I can see you again.” His voice was grave, caring a promise like none other as she cried. She should deny him, tell him not to do it. It would be dangerous, but she took comfort in his words anyway, clinging tightly to Lucifer.

They stayed like that for a while, both sitting on the floor as she sobbed into his shoulder, until her mother's voice called out to them. “Lucifer? You wanted to talk?”

The Devil slowly pushed Trixie back, smiling sheepishly as Chloe stepped up to them. Chloe frowned, glancing at Lucifer and then the cage door and Lucifer just shrugged before standing up and politely returning to his cage. “It was unlocked,” he stated, his tone teasing.

“Before or after you did something to it?”

The laughter in his eyes told Trixie that he was proud she caught onto it, though he was gazing only at the teen still, studying her to make sure she was okay. Behind Chloe, Christian seemed confused, by the whole conversation.

“Christian said you needed me?” Chloe asked.

“No, not need. I just asked him to get you.”

Chloe sighed, clearly exasperated. Lucifer's smile broadened at the sound, a hint of pain lingering in the gesture. “What do you want, Lucifer?” the detective questioned.

“I was curious about how much longer they're going to insist I stay in this awful place. Don't get me wrong, I've downgraded significantly in my sleeping arrangement, but these beds aren't fit for the demons back home! One nap and my back is stiffer than my--”

“Lucifer! I get it! We just brought in Grant. If we can get a confession out of him, I'm sure I can get you out of here in an hour.”

“Oh good. I was afraid I'd have to bribe someone soon, and I know you frown upon that.” Lucifer slumped back on the bed again, smiling at the three of them. Trixie snorted, happy to see Lucifer's humor returned. Hopefully with the confession and Lucifer's release, they'd all find some closure at last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like to think the guard happily adopted a dog, named her Samantha, and lived a great long life with her because Samantha (a retired character idea) deserves happiness.
> 
> Twitter: @Vaellin


	31. Reopening the Cafe

A whole month past before Lucifer could return to Redeye Roast. A month split between police investigation, repairs, and cleaning. Standing before the cafe, he felt much like he had when he first obtained the little store, except it was worlds different as well. When he'd opened it, it was a means to an end, a place close to the Spawn who had requested he stay. He could have vanished into LA at any point and still kept the deal. The city was big enough, no one would find him.

Why did he stay? Well, if Lucifer was honest with himself, it was probably because he needed to. He needed to know Chloe was safe, needed to know the Spawn would be okay. And more importantly, he needed the support of someone who cared for him. Even if he wasn't aware of it at the time.

As a result, the cafe was something special to him now, though small and completely beneath his usual standards. He was fond of it. It hadn't even been half a year, but the Devil found himself wondering what the future held for the little store, what it held for him.

While he'd moved away from Jesus and Christian's place, it hadn't been to distance himself. He spent most of the time reestablishing his independence, something he felt woefully diminished since his return, and sticking to his promise to the Detective to try. It was difficult, though, and the steps had been minor. Mostly staying up late night, texting and, on the rare occasion, conversing in their shared dreams.

Their conversations had been light, not touching on his time away but weaving tales of her past few years and of his life long before her. Each time he got a laugh out of her, his heart swelled. The times when Beatrice joined in were warm, too. But nothing compared to the statement Chloe said at the end of every dream, every conversation.

“Take care, Lucifer. I'm glad you're back.”

A part of him still couldn't believe it, but it was easy to ignore for now, when it was just the two of them.

And now, he was back to routine, back to work. The Devil opened the doors to his store and immediately set about cleaning and arranging the machines and furniture to his liking. The cleaning crew that'd worked there had done a sufficient enough job, but Lucifer was a bit of a perfectionist, preferring everything to be just right. And his piano needed to be tuned too. At his request, they'd only dusted it. He didn't dare trust the hired help to do more than that.

A few hours later, he was plucking out a few keys on his freshly tuned instrument when he heard the door open, his first customer since the grand reopening. He hummed a bit as he let the sound fade and a smile turned up, turning to face the arrival. 

And really, he should have expected it to be Beatrice and Chloe.

“Hey,” Chloe stated as her daughter cheered his name, running to hug him. Her arm was still in a cast, but a more mobile one that let her maneuver it around his waist. Lucifer averted Chloe's gaze, feeling a bit awkward and stiff as he returned the hug with significantly more grace.

“Hello, Detective,” he said.

“You said last night you were finally reopening the cafe. I hope our coming isn't too intrusive.”

“You're always welcome here, Detective,” Lucifer replied with a grin. “As is the Spawn. Allow me to get you two a drink. A celebratory one, of course.” He easily removed the teen from his side and returned to the counter. The familiar method of preparing their drinks settled his nerves a little as well.

“No alcohol in it. I still have to go to work today,” Chloe informed him, pulling out a chair at the closest table. Lucifer scoffed, but didn't reply, earning a warning tone from his former partner. “Lucifer...”

“Fine, only for the young Beatrice and I,” Lucifer teased.

“Lucifer!” Chloe hissed, earning a laugh from the other two in the store. He set the drinks on the counter with a grin, catching Chloe's gaze. Warmth spread through his body and he watched as tension bled out of hers, a smile replacing it.

The moment was broken when the door opened again, a gaggle of teens rushing in excitedly as their favorite hangout was unlocked. He greeted the newcomers with enthusiasm and served their drinks in time for more people to come in, including some familiar faces. Two of which he was happy to see arrive together. Ella and Rae approached Chloe's table after their orders, and Lucifer swore he heard the Detective inquiring about the Angel of Death.

As things picked up, Trixie slid behind the counter to help until eventually the remnants of the Devil's Advocacy Club trickled in, Christian at the front and Jesus behind Noah and Esther, deliberately engaging the two in random topics. Noah and Esther seemed almost ashamed to be there, and a bright 'no hard feelings' smile from the Devil didn't ease that expression. Ah, well, things would probably be tense between them all anyway. From what he'd come to realize, they knew who he was. Knowing the Devil was usually a terrible experience, with the one exception being teenage daughter of his partner.

Beatrice and Christian traded places, letting Trixie join the club and try to help soothe her friends as well. She stayed with them until Maze arrived, both relocating to join Chloe, Ella, and Azrael. Lucifer paused for a moment, taking in the scene before him. The warm cafe was not something he would have expected to have six years ago, but it was able to achieve a certain sense of family that LUX definitely could not have.

Which was immediately ruined when the door opened again and a certain police officer entered. Lucifer scowled at Michael Trent, who immediately froze, hands in the air in surrender.

“I come in peace,” the officer said quietly.

Chloe glanced back at him then at Lucifer and sighed in annoyance. She waved Trent forward, pulling out a chair at her table, much to the Devil's dismay. Lucifer grumbled, turning back to his current customer as he listened carefully to the nearby group.

“Whatever you said to Lucifer, you need to apologize Trent,” Chloe noted.

“I was only doing my job,” Trent protested.

“I'm sure. Look, Lucifer may get over the top sometimes, but he always has a reason for it, even if it's not immediately clear. Whatever you said or did, you should try to make amends. He's a good person. Wasn't that proven?”

Trent whispered the next response as he stood up, his voice quiet enough that the man probably thought no one could hear, though an angel, demon, and Devil definitely could. “The only thing proven was his innocence.”

Oh this man was a problem, Lucifer decided. Still, they couldn't say the Devil was inhospitable. As Trent inched his way to the counter behind a couple customers, Lucifer turned on the charm, his smile full force and leaning ever slightly too close to everyone, including Trent when he arrived. Trent pulled back a little, trying to get space between them while the others had almost closed the space entirely. “And how can I help you?”

“I'm just here to say sorry, Mr. Morningstar.”

“I see. Well, apology not accepted.” Lucifer pulled back sharply, dropping the facade and enjoying the tiny shiver from his target, the man clearly disturbed. “I already have one Detective Douche in my life, I don't need a second.” Daniel had, admittedly, been significantly more a friend than a douche, before his disappearance.

“I'm not even a detective,” Trent sighed. “But look, I'm friends with Decker and Dan, so can we at least pretend to be okay?”

“No.” Lucifer turned to the machines, making a quick drink and setting it in front of the officer. Trent looked at it, puzzled as he hadn't ordered yet. “But I won't kick you out of the establishment. If you cause any more problems, I'd rather I be around to stop it.”

He hadn't really meant it as a threat, though he knew it sounded like one. And the pale expression on Trent's face was incredibly satisfying. There was definitely something off about him. He disliked Lucifer in a way that the Devil couldn't quite put his finger on. It was some amalgamation of terrified to his core, disgusted, and pure hatred.

*

Dan took a deep breath, glad for the man-- _angel_ \--standing beside him. Seeing Lucifer again felt surreal. During the process of prosecuting Carmen, Dan had avoided Lucifer unconsciously, leaving the task to Wesson and Ella while Trent and Chloe backed the two up. It wasn't really intentional, but there was a difference between knowing the man he once considered a friend was the Devil and _seeing_ that man after knowing he was the Devil. The real Devil. Yes, having an angel at his side definitely helped.

“You'll be fine, Dan. I think Lucifer will actually be happy to know you know the truth,” Amenadiel stated. Dan wasn't sure he agreed, considering how freaked out Lucifer had been the last few times they'd interacted. Still, after one more steady breath, Dan stepped inside the cafe.

He'd seen it only a couple of times, each with the weight of a crime scene hanging over it. It was bright and lively. It felt a bit generic in its setting, but there were small touches that reminded Dan of not just Lucifer but Trixie as well. Currently, it felt as if it was in transition to become something real. Which was weird considering the owner.

Oh God the owner. Dan flashed a smile in Lucifer's direction, catching his eye briefly before the man dropped it. That was also weird, still, and Dan almost missed Lucifer's unblinking gaze and disregard for personal space. Lucfer waved him over and Dan hesitated, only moving when Amenadiel pushed him again again.

“Hey Luci,” Amenadiel greeted.

“Amenadiel, Daniel, a pleasure to see you!” Lucifer cheered. “At least, moreso than a certain someone.” Chloe, sitting at a table within earshot, groaned. She had a majority of their group at the table, including Trent who looked like he was trying to simultaneously vanish and make himself the biggest man in the room.

“H-hi,” Daniel squeaked, getting a raised eyebrow from the _Devil_. “Uh, we were told you reopened today?” His voice sounded tense to his own ears.

“Indeed. Just getting into the swing of things. What shall I get you, Daniel?” Lucifer had already set about making another concoction, something with way too much chocolate and whipped cream.

“Um, just black coffee, I think.”

:Lucifer huffed, as if the request for drip was an insult. “Certainly you can do better than that. I mean, drip is fine and all at home, but at the very least you could request an Americano! This is a fine establishment with the best coffee in LA. Here, how about I make you something and you decide if you like it. If not, I'll get you your simple drink.”

There was a tone in his voice that implied an insult: “simple drinks for simple minds.” Despite the verbal attack, Dan found himself laughing, a bit of tension easing as the fallen angel worked quickly through the the machines, fluid and arrogant while making _coffee_. His laughter increased when Amenadiel accepted the overly sweet cup without question and took a sip, sighing in satisfaction. The angel frowned at Daniel who just shook his head, shivering slightly from the mixture of nerves and joy.

Really, he was happy Lucifer was back. Devil or no, the man had become something of a friend.

As Lucifer set down a drink that had a hint of coconuts radiating off of it, Daniel glanced around, holding the hot cup. Trixie's friends were in the corner, seeming to be sneaking about and putting up posters or pictures and giggling about it. The rest of the people he knew were seated nearby. He took a long drink from his cup and couldn't help the soft moan as he took another. Only Lucifer's self satisfied grin stopped him from taking a third sip. It was coconut mixed with a hint of cinnamon to offset the sweetness. Definitely not something he'd have all the time, but this was fantastic.

As Daniel sat down, trying not to look at the Devil for fear of increasing his pride—which was ridiculous; the Devil was the most prideful being in reality—he noticed something off about the group. “Wait, where's Linda?”

Lucifer studied Chloe, seeming to be wondering the same exact thing as both she and Ella cleared their throats. Finally, it was Ella who answered. “After last time, uh, Linda didn't want to make things worse by showing up. She actually thought our arrival might be too, um, dangerous and scolded us as such, saying we should wait for you to come to us. But she does miss you, Lucifer; she just wants you happy.”

“I see,” Lucifer answered, his voice devoid of emotion. He turned to a new customer, the cheer returning as he helped them out, but it felt obviously fake to the rest of them. A small reminder that not everything was okay.

*

It was late at night; Linda was finishing the last bit of paperwork, ready to head home at last, when the door to her room opened. She groaned, rubbing her tired face as she called out to the intruder. “My office hours are over. Call back at eight in the morning and I'll arrange an appointment.”

“Ah, I'm sure. The issue is this isn't exactly an office visit.”

Linda jumped, quickly facing the man who stood before her. “Lucifer!” she squeaked, seeing him tense slightly as she beamed. She hesitated again, worried the man would suddenly be set off and noticing he was looking more at her paperwork than her.

“Mm, yes, me. I wanted to make sure you were okay, doctor. That we....” He trailed off, fussing with his sleeves. “The Detective and I talked a bit ago and I promised to try and work through things. I assumed that meant... but if you don't want to see me, I understand.”

“Wait, Lucifer!” Linda said, hoping to stop him before he tried to bury himself under the guilt in his voice. “I promise, I do. We're still good. I mean, I was clearly happy to see you.”

“I... yes, that is true,” Lucifer muttered. Where had all his confidence gone?

“Lucifer,” Linda began, stacking her paperwork and setting it aside. “Lucifer, I know it's after hours, but do you want to talk about it? Talk to a therapist.”

A pause before Lucifer nodded and practically collapsed on her couch. He buried his face in his hands, taking a deep breath. “Yes, I think it's time. But if at any point...”

“If I see any kind of attack coming on, I promise to keep myself safe,” Linda agreed, knowing what would bother him the most. She'd seen the horror in his eyes when he realized Trixie had been hurt. And she saw now how some of the fear fell from the Devil as he nodded again, agreeing to start up their session for the first time in a long, long time.


	32. How do you make someone happy?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more "interlude" chapter after this one (which will mostly be deckerstar, I'll admit) and then back to the action!
> 
> Twitter: @Vaellin

“So let me get this straight,” Linda stated, tapping her pen on her paper as her client paced back and forth. It was their third session, but they hadn't gotten far in dismantling Lucifer's anxieties. Today, they'd finally broken into a new conversation while talking about Chloe who'd become something of a frequent visitor since he opened his cafe again. Apparently, they'd been sharing dreams, which describing them had lead them to the current dialogue. “You don't struggle talking with Chloe in the dreams like you do in the cafe?”

Lucifer snorted. “Yes, I'm usually fine there, or at least better, but that's not the point I was getting at, Doctor.”

“I know, but I do think it's important to address. Why do you think there's a difference?”

“I don't know!” the Devil fumed, huffing out a breath and collapsing back on the couch. Precedent indicated he'd be on his feet again in a moment. They were getting to something important, really important. Now Linda just needed to keep him here without him shutting down or jumping to conclusions. “I guess because it's not really her, or because we're not really _somewhere_.”

“Not really her? But you said she shares them.”

“Yes, not _physically_ her. Keep up, would you?”

Linda sighed, remembering she needed patient. Lucifer had always been narcissistic and a bit of unease along with a few years of nightmares hadn't apparently quelled that. Not that she'd wanted it to. Lucifer was her friend, problems and all.

Which was why when she saw Lucifer slouch a bit, looking like a scolded puppy, her heart ached. “Sorry,” he muttered as if he expected her to condemn him.

Linda shook her head. “I understand your frustration, Lucifer; there's no need to apologize. Let's go on to the main point. You said you don't understand why you're still in your Hell?”

That eased the Devil a bit and he nodded. “Yes, well sort of. It's not actually where my Hell Loop is, obviously, but it's close enough.” He groaned. “Hardly an appropriate place to be bringing the Detective.”

“I thought you said she wasn't actually there.”

“She's _not_ ,” Lucifer whined. “But the first few times were actually pleasant places with alcohol and everything! Now...” He waved vaguely in the air. “I'm supposed to be getting better but it's been nonstop darkness.”

“Is that all that's there? Darkness?” Linda asked, hoping Lucifer wouldn't quite catch on to her moving around his own question. She'd address them, but for once he was talking about his Hell Loop, which she only knew bits of from Amenadiel's account.

“No there's also the...” Lucifer halted and then seemed to pivot his statement. “The light.”

“The light?”

“Yes, an odd thing, like a star in the distance. It's been there since the beginning and I'll be damned if I know what it's there for.” He seemed to consider this line of thought for a moment before coming to a conclusion. “I don't think it's malevolent. It's just there, like it's watching.”

“Anything else?”

“Well, the elevator door that never wants to work,” Lucifer grumbled. “And Uriel makes an appearance from time to time, not when the Detective's around though. In the dream that is.”

Uriel. Linda frowned, feeling a bit guilty about how little she'd paid attention to how killing his brother may have affected Lucifer. Sure, she had the excuse of facing the truth in an already stressful situation, but she should have come back. Instead, she let him be dragged down by his own guilt. “Do you want to talk about your brother?”

“What's there to talk about?” Lucifer huffed, though he stood up and began pacing again in contrast to his dismissal. “He was the main feature the first time I got caught in a dreaded loop, but now he's more an inconvenience, a narrator.”

“But when we first met up, you said his name. He's clearly still a major player in your loop, Lucifer.”

Lucifer tossed his hands up. “Yes, but as I said, he just likes pointing out all the things I do wrong, like some particularly cruel shoulder angel. 'You were a bit too mean, there Lucifer. What if she doesn't return?' 'Oh, Lucifer why didn't you tell her about that thing? Keeping secrets still, are we?' It's bloody annoying, but I'm used to ignoring him most of the time. Better than him retelling dark tales, a twisted version of past incidents.” Lucifer groaned to himself.

So, Uriel was just providing dialogue? Egging him on? Calling Lucifer out for the tiniest things and making it worse? Linda folded her arms, dropping her pen down as she watched her patient pace. “I don't think you are used to him. What he says bothers you, leaves you on edge most of the time. And sometimes it breaks you down.”

:Lucifer stopped, looking defeated before shaking his head. “It's not him. At least, not just him. I couldn't give a damn about him. It's the _others_ I care about.” He glanced to the wall and then to his wrist and at last to the door. “It's just about time, Linda. If you don't mind, I'll excuse myself.”

“Same time next week?” Linda pleaded, not wanting to force him to stay. At least she'd gotten a lot out of him, even if it left him with a beaten expression. He managed a weak smile, eyes planted firmly on her chin.

“Same time next week. Thank you.”

*

Since the loss of two important members, the club spent much of their time together. It was for the purpose of comfort in mutual loss and to ensure the others were safe, an unnatural paranoia in the teens. Or perhaps the paranoia was normal, what with their teacher being the one that pushed the atrocities on them. Esther and Noah were the worst off. Noah carried guilt on his shoulders as if he was Atlas, bearing the weight of the world. Esther just looked more withdrawn, being almost mute in their gatherings and usually resorting to holding onto Trixie or Noah when she could, as if they were single handedly holding her to the ground. Neither of them were looking forward to their role as witness in the upcoming trial, but they had also accepted the burden without complaint.

Christian still couldn't believe it, believe all the preposterous statements they'd made, but he also couldn't dismiss that moment in the holding cell, that light that pervaded his dreams.

Noah, leaning against the couch in Christian's living room, let out a frustrated groan. “We were so fucking stupid!” he shouted, burying his face in his hands. “I mean, what were we thinking? Okay, sure, the feathers were real. Angels are real. That's not up for question.” Christian had to disagree but he remained silent. “But Lu? Really? That man couldn't be the Devil.”

“What about the eyes?” Esther whispered, barely glancing at Noah who shrugged.

“The red ones we saw at the cafe? Maybe a trick of the light, I don't know?”

“And breaking Trixie's arm?” the quiet teen added.

“Adrenaline,” Jesus offered. “I mean, if mothers can lift cars, why can't someone shatter an arm in a situation of great stress. He also didn't think it was Trixie at the time, I believe.”

“Okay, and what about you, Trix?” Noah shot, a mixture of smugness and apprehension in his voice. “We were told you 'knew' Lu was the Devil. What do you think?”

Trixie froze in place, humming slightly as she picked out an answer, worry on her face. Christian raised an eyebrow, almost expecting what she as going to say as she shifted to a small smile. “Lu is a great guy, someone who wants to help people and make sure justice is served. That's why he was a police consultant for many years.”

Noah nodded, accepting this answer as a negative on the 'Devil' theory and announcing that he was going to try and convince the adults to help them get Lu a gift—alcohol. As Jesus and Esther followed, Christian grabbed Trixie, holding her back from joining the rest.

“What's up, Christian?” Trixie inquired, grinning at him.

“You think he's the Devil, don't you?”

Trixie stilled again, then turned back to see if anyone else was there. Alone in the room, the young leader of their group face Christian, expression grave. “Yes. But don't ask me to prove it, don't tell the others, and please just drop the subject. What I think about Lu is exactly what I said. He's a good person and I don't want him to be hated just because of his job.”

His... job? Christian shook his head slowly. “Lu is a great guy. Even if he were the Devil, I will always think so.”

“I doubt it, but it's nice to hear. Maybe you should tell him!”

There was a cheer in her voice that made Christian happy to know that Lu, despite his problems and how he'd hurt her, had someone in his corner no matter what. But that thought lead to another question. “You don't blame Noah or Esther?”

“I'd be lying if I said I don't,” Trixie admitted. “But I'd also be lying if I said I planned to hold it against them. They clearly regret it and they both helped in taking Mr. Grant down. Noah turned him in and Esther... well she could have shot me or Maze but instead she aimed low and towards the desk.” Trixie laughed slightly. 

The story Esther had told the police had been a desperate proclamation of 'it was an accident', which at the time had been upsetting but now was a bit amusing. She'd meant to scare both parties, so she'd actually intended to hit the furniture. However inexperience as well as shutting her eyes had her miscalculate where the bullet would hit. The injury was minor, thankfully, and Trixie had actually called her a hero, taking a bit of the pain from Esther.

The 'president' of their club cast her eyes up to the ceiling. “We're going to get there, Christian. We'll all be fine again. Maybe a piece of us will be missing, but I think all five of us are made of tougher stuff.”

*

The building was dark and dusty but built well enough that it wasn't even thinking of breaking down quite yet. Trent hadn't thought the purchase worthwhile at the time. Now, he had to admit Carmen had been wise in buying this base, out in the middle of no where. They primarily used the abandoned church, as it was in the city and therefore easier to find gullible, needy people. The backwoods nature of the cabin, however, had it's purpose for their more eccentric events, and it was perfect for what he had planned.

The wood floor creaked angrily behind him as Carmen inched his way into the room, one member behind him. Trent smiled at his partner who looked uncertain. His leg still had the marks of the tracking anklet, which Grant kept looking for with each step.

“How did you do it? Why?” Grant asked. His posture and tone was probably unconscious, giving authority to Trent where he'd usually assumed it.

Trent dismissed the individual who joined them first, gesturing Grant to follow. The ball room was redecorated a long time ago to have a heavy celestial theme, with white curtains draped on the walls and tables and gold lanyards hanging on everything. Feathers—not of the divine—formed the bulk of the decorations and the lights were all shaped like halos. Definitely eccentric.

“Knowing the right people to bribe goes a long way. It won't last long, especially with your trial coming up, but I needed you. So we'll have to act fast.”

“For the wings?” Grant hushed, his voice taking on that sing-songy nature of a drug addict, of their peons newly acquainted with the light.

“For the wings. Now I need you to stay here. I have a list of what I need you to do and a burner phone I'll call once things are rolling. Otherwise, there's food in the fridge if you get hungry.” Trent gestured to the adjacent room where the kitchen was. “Be available at all times. I'll be acting within the week.”

*

There was a nagging feeling in the back of Lucifer's mind that he needed to do something. Each day that the club came in, usually altogether or at least mostly, the Devil was drawn to watch Noah more than the rest. Really, he didn't begrudge the teen for his actions or his judgment. Lucifer was a bit resigned to that kind of behavior, but Noah stayed away from him at all cost anyway.

“He's feeling guilty,” Lucifer muttered, staring at the teens as they arranged some board game on his table. Guilt over what happened to his friends and, likely, for how he'd acted around the Devil. Even when they provided him with a gift the day before, Noah had stayed at the back with Esther, despite Jesus proclaiming it was Noah's idea.

The image of Lucifer's Hell Loop flashed through his head, placing the young teen there in his own nightmare of facing down Maryann and Sarah. It wouldn't be exactly like that, but instead tuned to hurt the kid more. That... that wasn't right.

Lucifer approached the table casually, watching them set up the cards and pieces for a few moments until Trixie greeted him as enthusiastically as ever. He returned the greeting and the grin before turning to his target. “Noah, can we talk? In the back.”

The teen didn't seem to think he had the right to refuse, stiffly standing up with an equally stiff nod and shuffling behind Lu as he proceeded to the employee's room. Christian watched them pass but said nothing.

Once in the room, Lucifer indicated to the couch to sit on. When Noah hesitated, the Devil gently pushed him towards the furniture and at last the teen obliged. Pulling up a folding chair, Lucifer also sat down and studied his subject.

“I know you're not actually the Devil,” Noah blurted out suddenly. “And I'm so sorry for thinking you are and making you... making you... with Maryann.” Tears were already building up and streaming down Noah's face.

Suddenly, the Devil remembered comfort was not his strong suit. He let Noah cry for a little while, trying to figure out how Linda or Chloe would address this until he decided to discard their opinions. This was about guilt, and that was definitely something Lucifer understood.

“Noah. I don't hold that against you,” Lu began, holding a hand up when Noah made to protest. “I know, that doesn't help. I just wanted to set that straight. I've done some terrible things, awful things, in my time. What you did? It was wrong, but you had no ill intent.” He leaned forward, holding Noah's gaze. “And you weren't wrong about me being the Devil. I am. I always will be. But that doesn't make me evil. What I do does, not a title. Just like your actions define you, right?” Noah nodded again, eyes holding onto Lucifer's. “And I don't think wanted to make up for what you did is wrong either. I absolutely understand that. Is that what you want?” Another nod. “And how, Noah, how do you want to make up for it? What do you want to do, going forward? To alleviate yourself of this guilt.”

“I don't know,” Noah confessed. “I want to make Christian, Jesus, Esther, and Trixie happy. I don't want them to suffer again. They're my best friends. I... I want Maryann and Sarah back; I want to go back in time and stop all this from happening!”

“Well, unfortunately, time manipulation isn't one of my skills,” Lucifer replied, sighing. “Happy, though? I'm with you there.”

Happy. Lucifer wanted to make his friends happy too, especially Trixie and Chloe. He just didn't know how. Thinking of their smiles, their teasing, their presence, that made _him_ happy, just pleased to be with them and get a positive reaction out of them. But to return the favor?

“How do you make someone happy?”

“If it's someone who cares about you, like you care about them, I was always told that the easiest way is to be happy yourself,” Christian answered. The other two men started, not having noticed him enter. He beamed at them. “Taking care of yourself and others, doing good deeds and helping where you can. Making people happy shouldn't be a difficult task, even if it means taking small steps. But when it comes to you two? We just want you guys to be happy; do what you can to achieve that. Or at least be honest with us so we can help you through the bad times, help you heal.” Christian's focus was primarily on Noah, who was drawn in by his words as much as Lucifer's 'mojo.'

“I can't be happy, Christian,” Noah said. “Not after what I did.”

“Well, we'll take it slow. You don't have to do anything special, but stay with us? We like having you around. And you as well, Lu.”

Lucifer snorted. “You couldn't get rid of me now if you tried.”

“I don't plan on it,” Christian replied, heading back through the door as a customer called for service.

Lucifer stared at the door for a few moments before facing Noah again. “I think, and this may be a bit presumptuous of me, but Maryann and Sarah would prefer to find out you lived life well, Noah. They wouldn't be happy to know you couldn't join them because you blamed yourself for their deaths.”

Noah's head dipped down, another sob of mixed emotions. “I don't want to blame myself, but who else can I?”

“Carmen Grant for one. He took advantage of you. All four of you. Helping put him back behind bars would be great justice for our late friends,” Lucifer stated and Noah nodded with his head still bowed.

“I agree. I agree.”

“Do you want us there on that day?”

“Please,” Noah begged. “I can't face him alone.”

“You won't. I promise.”


	33. I'm not going anywhere, not for a long time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I owe all of you guys an explanation. A long one, seriously. But first, I wanted to say sorry. Sorry for not reaching out to anyone over these past three weeks, especially those who asked and left comments (Lisa Q and Slowen, I love you two). And thank you for those who did ask. While I know I didn't reply (I was a bit of a coward), it helped me get through and push to keep working when I had a free chance (thought I did feel guilty, absolutely)
> 
> As for why I was gone for three weeks? Well short version: Works sucks and I quit (work, not the story.)
> 
> Longer version?: In rather rapid succession (and I don't remember the exact timeline) my work has lost a lot of people. My team consists of about 6 people working graves throughout the week. We wound up having one person stop showing up, another fired, a third turn in his two weeks notice and one of our replacements quit on the spot for a better job. Plus another coworker left state for a week due to a family emergency. (And, unrelated to work, my cat Dorian got neutered and did NOT take having to be confined to a room in a cone of shame very well, but that was for only about five days at the beginning of this whole fiasco). All of this has culminated to me turning in my two weeks notice a week ago. Honestly was about time--there was a lot more problems than just this going on--but the stress was making it so that I spent just about every moment at work, watching my cat, or sleeping. I was worn out and spent what time I could writing, but didn't complete it until today (and most of it got done during a family vacation since I live weird hours).
> 
> HUGE shout out to my mother for helping me through this, too. She reads this story as well (ever since she caught up) and has been encouraging me and helping me through a couple scenes. I hope you all enjoy it. Once more, sorry for the wait and thank you all for sticking with it. If you have any questions, feel free to ask them here or on twitter ( @Vaellin ). I'm taking another nap, but I will respond as soon as I'm awake.
> 
> This IS my last week at this job, but I'm also job hunting atm. I can't guarantee a chapter by this upcoming Thursday, but I want to shoot for no later than next Sunday. If things change, I'll leave a comment at the end of this chapter and on Twitter.
> 
> (Probably 4 more chapters to go!)

ADespite being after hours, the door opened simply enough. Dan stepped inside the dimly lit room, carefully watching the man behind the counter, who was handling the rest of the day's clean up and starting some preparation for the following day. He had to have seen Dan. A normal person would have seen him enter, and Lucifer was far from normal. Which was essentially why he was there.

Clearing his throat didn't immediately draw the Dev—Lucifer's attention. So a more direct method it was. Lucifer could only avoid him for so long, assuming that was what he was doing. “Lucifer,” Dan said, the name heavier on his tongue than it had once been. Not a stage name, not the name his parents gave to an unfortunate kid—or was it?

Lucifer finally looked up, a grim smile on his face. Did he know what was coming? “Yes, Daniel? How can I help? If you're hoping to get a cup of coffee, I'm afraid I just finished cleaning up and it's bothersome enough to do it at the end of the day. I'm disinclined to do it again. Perhaps I could arrange a cup of water?”

“Not alcohol?” Dan stated in surprise. He realized his mistake only when Lucifer's grin turned mischievous. 

“Why Daniel! I always knew you were the most likely to cave in to your baser desires.”

Daniel groaned. “We all drink, it's nothing special. We just don't drink as much as you.”

Lucifer hummed, the response not agreeing or disagreeing. Still, he pulled out two plastic cups and then half filled them with whiskey, plopping one cup on the counter and studying Dan with apprehension. Yes, he definitely knew what Dan was here for. Drinking the entire cup in one go, Lucifer pushed forward in the conversation. “So, Detective Espinoza, what brings you to this place so late at night, and alone?”

There were two things Dan was thinking about as he studied the person before him. The first and most crucial was that he was the Devil. An angel, a king, an immortal, and definitely not human. It made him dangerous and different. But the others knew this as well. In fact, he was the last of their group to learn and each of them had come to the conclusion that Lucifer was still worth associating with. The Devil was still their friend. This eased a fair bit of his concerns.

It also helped that Amenadiel—another angel, the _oldest_ angel—had told Dan that Lucifer was changing for the better, that the Devil was trying to be good despite all the stories about him.

The second concern was more mundane. In so much that everything was more mundane than finding out your friend was a supernatural being. However, it had taken up a good portion of their conversation lately, whenever the man in question came up as a topic. His stress, his panic, the fear they all saw. Cumulatively, they all found some conclusions. Lucifer seemed worse off when he was alone with a friend, when it was dark, when he heard something negative about him or he did something that could be construed as negative. Even now, with the sun still shining in the late summer evening, Lucifer couldn't quite look Dan in the eye and his body was as stiff as a board. He was getting better. Chloe, Linda, Trixie and Lucifer himself claimed as much, but he was far from over whatever happened.

So what brought Daniel Espinoza to the Devil's home on a late summer evening, alone when he would be most on edge? The truth. The truth and hopefully some kind of arrangement that kept them on neutral or positive grounds. Dan took a deep breath, downed his own drink for courage, and offered the Devil a smile in return. “I know the truth,” he said. “That you aren't... you aren't lying when you claim to be the Devil. You really are.”

Lucifer's tense posture somehow turned rigid for a few moments, the Devil's eyes the only thing moving as it scanned what it could of the detective before him. Eventually, he spoke, his body still a statue. “And? What have you decided? Do you plan on taking the Spawn and running off to Europe to escape me? Or do you want to kill me? Send me back to to Hell?”

Why were those his only two options? Dan snorted, almost surprised at the pessimistic response from Lucifer. He probably had his reasons but, after all of Dan's own thoughts running him ragged, the sight of the Devil being afraid of Dan's opinion was almost as hilarious as the oldest of God's angels drinking what could only be described as pure sugar. So he laughed, earning a glower from Lucifer but also seeing Lucifer's posture relax.

“No, Lucifer. I'm honestly just glad you're back. I just didn't want there to be any secrets between us anymore.”

Lucifer fidgeted with his coat, eyes suddenly firmly on the counter. “I see.”

“There _are_ no more secrets between us, right?” Dan teased. Catching the tone, Lucifer grinned, that impish expression lighting up his face.

“There are always more secrets, Dan, but I doubt you can handle them. You don't seem the adventurous type in the bedroom, after all.” As an offering of peace, the Devil poured another drink for each of them. Dan accepted it with a nod.

*

It was the following morning when another person arrived before the store was actually open. Lucifer was in the back, grabbing a few items he'd forgotten in his drinking with Daniel. His first reaction was to groan, stay in the back and hope whoever it was left. The stress of expecting rejection had worn on him and he didn't want to deal with some customer who'd just not noticed the closed sign and hours posted on the door.

However, Beatrice and Christian were inclined to also show up early, to join him for breakfast or help him with opening. Never one to disappoint those two if he could prevent it, Lucifer set his box down and adjusted his shirt before exiting the room. 

Once more, he was surprised by the sight of the Detective standing in his cafe, smiling fondly at the piano before greeting him with that same smile. Lucifer's heart stopped, tugged hard in two directions. It was the first time they'd been alone since... well they hadn't been alone at all after Cain died, unless one counted their dreams, which he did not. Even in the precinct, there were always other officers and detectives moving about while they had their private conversations.

That she was willing to be alone with him, had clearly come here with that intent, brought warmth to his very soul. But at the same time, just the two of them, Chloe standing before him completely unguarded. Uriel's voice was distinct as it snarled at him. “She's in danger around you.”

He managed to shove it aside, force him down to a whisper as he nodded a greeting and set about making them both coffee. The task helped him focus as he unconsciously went through his routine, counting sights, sounds, smells, solid things in the real world. The tables were a little dusty, he'd have to take care of that. It was bright outside and that light helped highlight the art that the remnants of the Advocacy Club had started putting up to 'personalize' the small shop. Chloe was still by the piano, though settled in the chair at the table closest to it, watching him. Cars were passing by already, few as it was extremely early and not quite the morning rush. Bird songs filled the air along with the buzzing of insects, both looking for food and a partner. The chair Chloe sat in squeaked a bit and she drummed her fingers on the table as she politely waited for Lucifer to finish his tasks. The smell of coffee was most prevalent, along with the remnants of the whiskey shared, the bottle empty with the lid left off. Traces of the Detective's shampoo lingered behind the other two scents, subtle and familiar.

“It appears that I've been getting a lot of visitors lately outside of business hours,” Lucifer mused as he brought Chloe's drink, setting it on the table.

“Did someone else come by?” Chloe replied as she accepted his gift.

“Daniel, last night. Apparently people have been telling him secrets.”

“Right, like you haven't been doing that this entire time,” the Detective countered with a light laugh.

Lucifer chuckled in return. “Regardless, I never thought my brother would go so far for either Daniel or myself, but color me surprised.” Daniel had explained how he'd found out a few drinks in, even admitted that he'd had his own concerns off and on. Not unexpected, but that he'd stayed with those concerns left Lucifer in knots. He needed Trixie still, and Daniel had enough sway to take her away from him.

“I think you'd find a lot of people would do a lot of things for you, Lucifer,” Chloe replied. When Lucifer's grin turned lecherous she rolled her eyes. “Not for anything like that, but simply because we're friends. Because we care about you.”

Lucifer frowned. He knew this, knew that they cared, but it didn't stop him from feeling guilty about it. No matter how much he told himself otherwise, the echoes of his friends remained in the background as a distorted chorus. It was just a matter of keeping it at bay most of the time. He sighed heavily and shook his head, trying to dismiss the tangent his thoughts were following. “You shouldn't,” he grumbled, quietly. 

Apparently not quietly enough, though, as Chloe stood up and approached him, gentle and scared smile on her face. Her hand brushed his cheek and he leaned into the touch involuntarily, her fingers as soft and wonderful as he remembered. Her blue eyes held his and for once the instinctive need to pull away didn't overwhelm him. It was still there, but he fought it as she spoke. “Are you still scared? That we'll crumble to dust in your presence?” Lucifer didn't answer, but she no doubt knew his reply. “Lucifer. Do you see me right now? I'm here, in front of you. I'm not going anywhere, not for a long time.”

Then, the detective's smile broadened and she breathed a short laugh as she pulled away, the lingering warmth on his cheek the reminder of her touch. “Besides, you've made it pretty hard for someone to do that, I think.”

“What do you mean?” Lucifer said after a pause, his thoughts struggling a bit to catch up.

“Do you have a knife? One you don't mind having to clean after.”

Still confused, Lucifer nodded and pulled out a blade from his knife block. Chloe accepted it before stepping back and taking a few nervous breaths. He hummed a short note, trying to non-verbally ask for an explanation and Chloe simply shrugged. “If I want to do this right, make it noticeable, the wound can't be small.” Then she slid the blade across her palm. Lucifer yelped, calling her name, but the detective simply thrust her hand towards him, blood trailing out of it.

Then light filled the room, a brilliant display of pure divinity. It reminded him, briefly, of his mother. Her light was so strong, so dense, so pure that it could burn all that witnessed it. This was different, though. Softer, warmer, and closer to the light of the stars as they watched over mankind in the night sky.

Lucifer stepped up next to Chloe before he was fully aware of his actions, holding her hand carefully as he watched the light mend her wound until not a trace of it remained. The warmth remained, leaving her hand hot to the touch.

“Is this because...?”

“You healed me? I think so, yes.”

Of course there would be side effects. Dreams aside, Lucifer hadn't noticed any other changes in the detective from his honestly reckless actions that night in the hospital. But there had to have been some. At least this seemed safe, healing and releasing some of the pent up power at the same time. She could probably handle it better too, it being his power and her being a miracle.

“Did you not know this would happen?” Chloe asked, noticing how contemplative the Devil had gotten. He shook his head in response.

“We were always advised not to. No one knows why, necessarily, but it seemed the safer option not to use our powers this extensively on humans. I mean, you've seen what happens at the mere sight of them.”

“I have. But you did it anyway?” She didn't accuse him in her question, her tone implying she was probing for answers, always the detective needing to figure things out.

“I didn't see much of a choice at the time,” Lucifer replied. He'd also just left Hell, after all. Everything seemed much more dramatic at the time. He could remember seeing her crumbling before him as she lay there, only the Spawn nearby preventing him from collapsing then and there.

Chloe nodded, accepting this answer easily. He knew what she was thinking of, how close she'd come to death. Beatrice had told Lucifer of how her mother had deteriorated too, losing not only her life but her mind in many ways. For someone so intelligent, so committed to thinking things through, it had to be horrifying. But she sat here, only months after everything, and faced it head on.

“You know,” Chloe said, pulling her hand back and leaving a sense of loss once more where she'd been touching his hand. “I was shot in the stomach a while ago. It was only because of this strange energy that I survived, I think.” She was studying her hand carefully.

Lucifer's stomach dropped. “Detective. I should have been there. I should have protected you.” He'd always known how dangerous her job was. But he'd been wallowing in his own guilt. If he was there then she wouldn't have--

“No, I don't think you're understanding me. You did. Protect me, I mean. In a way.” She smiled gently again, eyes shining with faint tears. “So thank you, Lucifer. For saving me again, even when you didn't know that was what you were doing.”

Her hand reached out again, caressing the side of his face, the extra heat from the healing still there as she pulled him closer to her. Chloe's lips were soft and warm; they were everything he remembered and then some. The touch of them against his own sent a jolt through his body, having him responding before he could even consider pulling away. Not that he would, not with Chloe.

Lucifer returned the gesture, pushing against her and slowly pulling her body closer to his own. A hunger he kept suppressed surged, barely kept restrained by fear. Fear of the constantly lurking voices, yes, but more fear that this was Chloe. _Chloe_. The one person he'd wanted in a way he'd never felt before. Her and her alone.

Their kiss deepened, the world becoming small, focused on only them and that moment. 

 

*

This was a mistake. Christian paced across the street from the Redeye Roast, trying his best not to think about what he just saw, and failing miserably. In fact, it was all he could think about. Not just the image of his boss kissing his friend's mother, which was weird but expected in many ways. At least on Lu's part, less so on Ms. Decker's. The bigger problem was the other part he'd witnessed.

Once could be a trick; twice confirmed it for him. That light he saw was obvious, though why it was coming from Trixie's _mother_ over the man in front of her was a part he didn't understand. Was she an angel or something? Did that make Trixie half angel? That explained why she seemed comfortable with the idea that Lu could be the Devil. Was the Devil.

Oh man, Christian's head hurt. He hadn't meant to spy, not really, but he'd spotted Lu and Ms. Decker alone in the cafe and his worry overrode his common sense. The idea that a breakdown could occur when it was the two of them alone was unfounded, though. Sure there were moments when Lu seemed panicked, but he handled it well. Christian couldn't hear a word, but what he saw had been startling. Chloe Decker cutting open her hand, bleeding light, and then the two coming to some kind of conclusion. And oh man that was a conclusion.

"You're Christian, right? Trixie's friend?" Christian's name drew his attention to a man standing nearby. The teen recognized him. He was one of Trixie's parents' coworkers. Trench? Something like that.

"Uh, yeah, can I help you?" Christian asked, his brain still trying to process his boss being the Devil, among other things.

"Is Trixie around, actually? I wanted to ask her a question." Trent. Trent was his name. 

Christian shook his head slowly. "No, if she's not still asleep then she's probably hanging out with friends." She hadn't replied to his text asking if she was going to Lu's this morning. Maybe she knew her mother was visiting. Trixie could have warned him, then!

"Ah, well, I'll just talk to Mr. Morningstar for now, then," the man muttered, turning to cross the street.

"You can't!" Christian yelped, holding out a hand to grab the officer's arm. If Christian didn't think he should be seeing that scene, then it was very likely Trent shouldn't be either. Regardless, it was definitely a private, personal matter even if they were in a place anyone could look in and see. 

"Why not? What's going on?" Trent frowned at the teen, seeing the panic in Christian's face and almost certainly misunderstanding why. The older man softened his expression. "Did you see something?"

Christian nodded mutely.

"You're a good kid, from what I've heard. The incident with your friends had us looking into your background a bit. I'm betting what you saw disturbed you, with your religious understanding."

Seeing his boss making out with a cop was hardly against his teachings. It wasn't like they were getting all that into it, but maybe the man thought Lu had no restraint. There were definitely times when he acted flippant. 

Trent ignored Christian's confusion, absorbed in his own world. "If you want to talk about it to anyone, I can promise I'm on your side. I won't let this monster stand for what he's done, for who he is." Then Trent took out a notepad, writing down his number and handing it to the teen. "If you need to get ahold of me, this number is available. I'll just be there to listen so you don't have to do anything."

Again, Christian nodded mutely, accepting the paper. His mind had clearly been more muddled than he thought because it wasn't until Trent called Lu a monster that Christian realized he meant Lucifer as the Devil was a problem, not his promiscuous nature. As Trent walked off, claiming intent to return later, Christian held the paper closely. He wasn't sure what was going on, but it seemed clear that Trent did not have good intentions for the Devil.

Honestly, Christian wasn't entirely sure he blamed the man. However, the teen definitely didn't have the same opinion.

*

Like so many of their romantic moments, it ended too soon. Lucifer and Chloe both pulled apart when it became clear they were about to take a step into something more. It was too soon, too raw, too unprepared. A plethora of excuses that had them stumbling through reasons to separate, embarrassed--no, not embarrassed, Lucifer didn't do embarrassed. He did need to cool down, though.

When the detective left, thanking him for the coffee, Lucifer collapsed on the piano bench and laughed. His hands were shaking and a ridiculous grin took over his face. He didn't even notice the lack of taunts, haunting voices. It was by far the most at peace he'd felt in a while. And he held onto that moment, knowing he'd treasure it whatever the future may hold.

Consumed by joy, he played his piano, cheerful and magical tunes filling the cafe until, an hour after he was supposed to open, Christian entered the cafe The teen offered him an awkward smile as if he shared a secret with the Devil. Lucifer just flashed him a brilliant smile. The teen didn't stop him from playing as he finished setting up the cafe and went to work.

Redeye Roast was filled with music the entirety of that day.

*

Chloe was at work now and Lucifer was in the cafe. Trent paced a bit restlessly outside of the apartments. There was still a risk that someone else would be involved. The demon, for one, that was a known danger for a long time. She'd been the one to catch Carmen Grant after all. But Trent had an excuse, papers clutched to his chest, and an opportunity. It was now or never. Or maybe he'd have another chance in a couple days.

No. It was confirmed she wasn't at the cafe and it was still early. She'd be home. He couldn't chicken out, even if the idea of enraging the Devil scared him. He was doing this for a just reason.

Trent knocked on the door, clutching a bundle he had on the side. He wore gloves to prevent fingerprints, had taken worn down shoes so that his footprints would be nondescript. Every measure he could think of to minimize the trace of being found by Miss Lopez. He needed to be found eventually, but too soon would spell the end for him. And he was not only going to be going against the Devil and one of the best bounty hunters in LA, but the best team in the LAPD as well. His own A game was an absolute must.

When Trixie opened the door, Trent relaxed ever so slightly, listening carefully for another person. Trixie smiled politely at him, taking a few moments to recognize the man. "Oh, you're Mom's coworker. Officer Trent, right? Mom's not here right now, if you're looking for her."

"I'm aware. I just hadn't had a chance to swing by until now," Trent bluffed. He presented his bundle to the teenager, who accepted it with a concerned and confused expression. "It's a housewarming gift. It felt odd to give it to your mother at work, so I just wanted to drop it off here. I got your address from your father."

"What is it?" Trixie asked, holding the small box.

"It's a picture frame! Why don't you put it on a table or something?"

As Trixie obliged, turning around to place the package down, Trent lept into action. He grabbed the teen from behind and pressed a cloth against her mouth. Trixie gasped, but rather than submit to his action, she fought. Rocking slightly, she managed to elbow him in the gut hard, causing him to release her and fold over. Trixie made to run, taking a few deep breaths and preparing to scream for help. That couldn't happen.

Trent pushed himself forward, tackling the girl to the ground. She slipped from his grip again, rolling to the side but her feet fell out from her as she tried to get up, pulled hard by the officer. Her head smacked against the coffee table and she cried out in pain. Trent took advantage of the moment to climb on top of her, forcing the cloth again to her face. She continued to struggle, arms pushing against him as best she could, until finally she stopped.

Hesitantly, Trent stood up, shaking slightly from a few good hits. Was his face stinging? When did she score a hit on his face? He didn't have time to ponder it, though. Time was limited. He hefted the fifteen year old up and carefully carried her out and away.


	34. Have you ever actually taken the time to talk with him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's chapter came out a biiiiit later than intended. In part because I lost track of time rereading a book (Oathbringer--third book in the Stormlight Archives. Great series if you like fantasy epics). Regardless, here we are! Enjoy!

Chloe spent most of the day distracted, trying to figure out how to follow up that morning. Too often they would get closer only to be torn back by something else. Now that they'd finally taken a step forward again, one that seemed harder and shakier than ever before, she didn't want to back down. Extravagance was Lucifer's forte, but right now something simpler seemed to be more appropriate. Even now she could picture the fear, the panic, and the guilt in his face. She didn't want to be the cause of it.

So, she hatched a plan. A basic one that seemed so perfect the moment she thought of it. Once off the clock, she hurried to the cafe. Lucifer and Christian were already cleaning up, just a little bit before closing The grin plastered on the Devil's face was visible from the entrance, completely real and bright. Unconsciously, the detective returned the smile with a smaller one of her own.

Six years and he still had the talent of making her glow with ease.

Christian was the first to spot her, cleaning the counter giving him a direct line of sight to the doorway. Instead of greeting her, though, he cast a sheepish look in her direction before attracting his boss' attention and sending him to her. If possible, once Lucifer caught a glimpse of Chloe his expression became even brighter. He crossed the distance to the entrance in three long steps and swung the door open gracefully.

"Detective! What are you waiting outside for? The door is never locked for you!" the cafe owner cheered. Chloe's eyes widened with surprise.

"Wait, you can do that? Make doors locked for specific people?"

Lucifer laughed, the sound sending vibrations through Chloe's body. "The door simply isn't locked, and you are always welcome."

The last part meant so much more to Chloe than she could possibly voice. Maybe he wasn't thinking entirely in the moment, maybe he'd retract it, but going from the number one person he didn't want to see to the woman who brought such joy that he welcomed her entirely was the best feeling she'd received since he'd left.

Both of them basked in each other's presence for a little while longer until Christian interrupted them by clearing his throat. Once both pairs of eyes were on them, the teen suggested, "Why don't you two head on out and talk? I'll finish up here. There isn't much left to do anyway."

"Ah, right, thank you Christian," Lucifer replied, his thoughts sorting themselves out from the knot they'd clearly been tangled up in.

Chloe reached up slowly, letting him pull away if he needed to. He didn't move , though he watched as her hand rested on her arm, tugging gently. "Let's go. I had actually come by to ask if you wanted to have dinner with Trixie and I."

Lucifer hummed slightly, eyes following up her arm and to her face. She saw him pause at her lips before making eye contact and nodding. "Dinner with the Spawn? Sounds delightful. And what's for dessert?"

His tone was innocent, but the light in his eyes was not. Chloe slapped his arm and snorted out a laugh. "Not right now, Lucifer. I don't want to push things."

"Not now, but later?" Lucifer sounded like a puppy whining for a treat. Chloe laughed again, before throwing a wink back at him.

"We'll see."

The trip home was filled with joy and light teasing, banter that the two hadn't shared in so long. Touches were gentle and brief, but frequent as Lucifer chose their pace in a show of surprising restraint. No, perhaps not. The longer they were together, the more Chloe saw a bit of apprehension bleeding through. Sometimes he'd ask questions that seemed to simply reassure him, like talking of how Chloe was feeling or if the Spawn was going to be there when they arrived. Whatever high he'd been riding from that morning was wearing off and the darker thoughts of his trauma was slipping through. It was disappointing, but still better than when they'd first reunited.

Everything came to a halt, however, when they arrived at Chloe's apartment. Lucifer opened the door with ease, though Chloe wasn't quite sure if doors were ever locked to the Devil. Inside was where Chloe began to panic. The tense posture of Lucifer echoed her thoughts as they took in the scene before them, immediately knowing something was off. There was a few items knocked to the ground, the rug was shifted unnaturally, and most damning of all was the trace of blood on the table. Chloe rushed into the door, the faint glimmer of hope dying quickly as she called for her daughter, forgetting her training and opening every door without hesitation. She desperately hoped to find her daughter curled up in a corner, scared but unharmed or perhaps successfully apprehending an intruder. Nothing. No one. It was empty.

In the entrance, Lucifer stood quietly, his jaw clenched as he held a small wrapped package. A card on the top read “To Chloe” in print. It was unfamiliar.

A part of her knew she shouldn't disturb the crime scene, but the possibility of this being a hint to find her daughter, a moment sooner to getting her back, cut off all rational thought. She took the gift from the Devil, careful while tearing it open to preserve as much paper as possible for finger prints.

Inside was a broken picture frame, the image inside a painted graphic of an angel, wings spread out and descending from clouds. The angel was female, with long golden hair and a mouth open in song. Odd and a bit frightening in the circumstances.

“Detective, under the picture. I think there's something else,” Lucifer said, his voice quiet. Fear and guilt painted his tone and expression. Did the image think he was related?

Carefully moving the glass aside, again preserving as much as possible, and then the angel revealed another printed note.

“Your daughter or the Devil. Only one will live,” it read before signing off with “Carmen Grant.”

*

The sound of an old clock counting out the hour woke Trixie up, begrudgingly as her head ached harder with each toll. She groaned, trying to gather up what she remembered of the last few hours she was awake. Immediately, the memory of her attack made her stomach sink and she began to struggle to sit up.

Lying on her stomach left her with a limited view of a dim room that smelled of wood and forest. She could see curtains drawn over windows and Christmas lights overhead that twinkled like stars. Tables and chairs were stacked in the corner and large red carpet was spread out before her leading to the door at the end. 

Whatever was going on beside or behind her, however, was a complete mystery. She could make out humming, so she was positive someone else was there, but she wasn't sure if they knew she was awake. The ropes tightly binding her hands and feet were evidence enough that she wouldn't be moving any time soon. Her bad arm was twisted to meet the other arm, even, sending a wave of pain through her body when she thought about moving it. Trixie could faintly feel more rope around her torso, possibly binding her to whatever object she was on. The only way to be sure, though, was to struggle against it, which she wanted to do when she was left alone.

The worst part of all of this, though, was that she was left without a blindfold. Even knowing her original captor from the start, everything her mother told her was that being left to witness a crime usually meant death. It was very, very likely she wasn't going to get out of this alive.

Fear and dread clouded her mind as she fought against the tears, shivering from the realization that she was in the middle of no where with an unknown amount of people intending on using her for some nefarious purpose. Despite her training, she knew the truth. She wasn't a demon, capable of taking on an army by herself. She wasn't the Devil, with the power to sway the masses with his charm or tear open metal doors with his bare hands. She wasn't even a detective, able to outwit criminals and find clues in the strangest of corners.

Trixie cried. She couldn't help it. Even holding it back left her with quiet sobs and the occasional sniff. Trying to reassure herself that Lucifer and the rest would be there to save her didn't work. After all, that was exactly what Trent wanted. And what if they fell into his trap. There were so many close calls in Trixie's life, always leaving her with the thought of "what if this time they don't come back."

"Want something to drink?" a familiar voice asked, her substitute history teacher walking around in front of her. The humming. He was the source. "I can't offer much else. Unless you want some alcohol."

"Aren't you supposed to be in prison?" Trixie hissed. "How did you get out?"

Carmen sighed, pulling out a flask and taking a swig. "Thing about being friends with a police officer with a lot of pull? He can get you out of tight binds."

Friends with the police? It made sense suddenly. Of course. Those feathers swayed her friends over, and Lucifer mentioned the power had diminished over time. If Carmen showed Trent the feathers at full power... "You're manipulating Officer Trent, aren't you?" Trixie questioned. "Promising him those feathers like you did my friend!"

Carmen barked out a laugh. "Sometimes I wish. He's an incredibly clever partner, but occasionally I'd rather he just quietly comply. Like right now, it feels less like I'm in charge and more a pawn." The former teacher shook his head slowly, a wry grin on his face. "In reality, he promised _me_ the feathers. His knowledge of the divine, his hatred for your charming friend? That's all on him. Well, and the Devil, I guess."

"But why? What has Lucifer done to you guys?" Trixie pleaded, taking the opportunity to struggle against her bindings, despite the pain. As she suspected, her body was tied down at several points, leaving her pinned.

"You really have to ask that?" Carmen questioned. "We have books with tale and tale of the crimes he's done, the job he has. It's almost more of a question of why you're friends with him! Though I guess even the Bible paints him as a charmer."

"Weren't you after him too?"

"His power, yes. And I've no illusions about the benefits of befriending the Devil, child, but I would never truly consider him an ally even if I swayed him to my side."

"That's so selfish!"

"And? It's the Devil we're talking about. The most selfish creature in creation. My sins of greed pale in comparison. The only difference is that I'll actually get punished for it." Carmen groaned taking another drink from his flask and then standing. "I'll go get you a drink. Let me know if you need something to eat or to use the restroom. We need you alive for when our guests show up and I've been assigned as your warden."

Trixie didn't reply, thinking of Lucifer's despair, the pain he felt from spending so long in Hell. Mr. Grant was wrong. Lucifer was definitely being punished for what he did, right or wrong.

Several long moments later, after being carefully offered water, most of which spilled onto the wooden floor, Michael Trent finally entered the room. The man was sporting a black eye and spotting her made him unconsciously reach to his side as if it hurt. Good, he deserved to suffer.

"There's a missing persons report out at last. Decker is obviously involved, but one of my contacts says that _he_ is helping out too," the police officer told Mr. Grant.

"What's that mean for us? We expected him to come."

"It means we're guaranteed to have Decker show up as well. No word on the others, which could be seen as good. Maze is likely to be the most troublesome of the group, but Ella and Dan will throw things off as well."

Carmen reached down to his leg with a wince at the memory of the demon and Trixie cheered at the small victory again.

"Anyway, you can take a break now. I'll keep an eye on her while you get something to eat and drink. Relax a bit. Listen for your name, though." 

As Grant left, Trent approached the stacked chairs, bringing one back and setting it next to the teen. He sighed, pulling out a book and reading, clearly having no intent on conversing. However, Trixie couldn't stand it. Dread threatened to consume her in waves and only doing what she could, getting what little information she could gather, kept it at bay. What if they reached out to Lucifer and her mother, demanding a ransom or something? She'd seen it in movies, where the victim was granted a chance to speak or shout out a hint to their location. The place she was in was nondescript--some dining hall with a rural feel--but there was more information than just location.

"You're doing all of this to get power?" Trixie whispered. WhenTrent didn't reply, she repeated herself louder. Again, he ignored her. "Hey! Hey! Mr. Trent, answer my question!"

"Will it get you to shut up?"

"So long as you don't answer just 'yes' or 'no'."

"Fine. No, I'm not doing this for power, that's Carmen's objective."

"Why are you trying to get to Lucifer then?"

Trent frowned at her, closing his book and then standing up. He lifted her head, glowering at the teen in annoyance. "Because he's the Devil. After all he's done, he deserves to die."

"All he's done? He's not _evil_. He only punishes evil!"

"Even so," Trent replied, dropping her head. "What do you think, Trixie, defines evil? Him? God? Us? And if they're evil, do we measure it in amounts or throw them all together?"

"I... well clearly some evils are worse than others?" That was why people received different sentences in accordance to the law.

"Not in Hell. Everyone who ends up there, from a small time crook to a psychopathic murderer, suffers for the rest of eternity. Is that fair?"

"Maybe... maybe not, but that's not Lucifer's fault?"

"Why not? He's their king. The ruler of Hell. He doesn't care for the inhabitants, only for their torture. I've seen it. The weight of sins, in his eyes, is only measured by how personally he takes it. Ever since I saw his... face... I realized the truth. I looked into each suspicious incident from before and from then on, every time he chose to scare people into repenting. Do you know what I found?" Trent was pacing now, not listening or watching her responses. "He would use it, willingly, on murderers, sure, but not all of them. To him, the only difference is if he's involved. Theft, malpractice, murder, they're all equal in his eyes. And that kind of perspective from the very man who decides how we're punished? You're an idiot if you think that's not evil.”

“You're wrong!” Trixie pushed against the ropes again, arm burning uncomfortably. “Lucifer is always trying to help! He's always trying to do what's right!”

“He's clearly just manipulating you to think that. You're just a chi--”

“And you're not giving him a chance! Have you ever actually taken the time to talk with him?”

Trent groaned, running a hand through his hair and standing up. “Yes. And it ended with him pinning me against the wall in the interrogation room. This conversation is over.” Trent strolled to the end of the hallway, taking only a moment to glance back at her before flicking the lights off. When the door closed behind him, she was left in absolute darkness.

*

Lucifer was startled from a nap by his phone's ring tone, a couple papers falling from their brief attachment to his face. He blinked away the last bit of sleep, taking in his surroundings. The police milled about as usual, the sounds of distant calls and doors familiar in the precinct. Chloe sat in front of him, asleep as well with her face on her desk and papers strewn about. He smiled fondly, brushing aside a bang that'd fallen out of place. They must've nodded off at some point while working to find the Spawn.

Chloe had been adamant that she wasn't going to listen to the possible kidnappers, immediately refusing the paper to an invisible individual. Lucifer knew it was largely due to her sense of justice, but he still held onto the fondness that it was the Detective defending him even in this dire circumstance. And he had no intention of letting whoever took Beatrice get away with it. There would be Hell to pay.

His phone chimed a notification, reminding him that he'd been woken up by someone trying to call him. A missed call from Christian. Stepping away from the desk to let Chloe sleep, Lucifer called his employee back.

“Lu! Are you okay?” Christian asked, forgoing a standard greeting.

“Indeed,” Lucifer muttered, wondering what could cause the teen to be so panicked. “What is going on?”

“Well, you weren't at the cafe and the doors weren't locked. I was worried you might have-- oh God, you're with Miss Decker aren't you.”

“I am,” the Devil replied, still a bit baffled.

“Oh God, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt anything. I mean, things seem to be going well, but you can never be too sure.”

Lucifer snorted, waving a hand in dismissal even though Christian couldn't see it. “You've interrupted nothing. Except maybe a nap, but that was unintended anyway so no harm.” He hesitated, thinking about the note that clearly condemned him. As Christian said, 'you can never be too sure.' “Actually, Christian, while I have you on the line, can I ask for a favor? I want you to gather the rest of the club and bring them to Mazikeen. I need you guys to be safe.”

“The rest? Safe from what?”

“The Spawn—Beatrice. We believe she's been taken.” 

“Taken? Oh no, oh God. Do you have any idea who did it or where she is?”

“One suspect, but we're not holding our breath yet,” Lucifer muttered, casting his eyes to the sky. Oh God indeed. His Father was just watching while all of this was going on, while the Spawn was likely scared, alone, and hurt. Damn Him.

Grant was named on the card, but none of them thought he did it, or at least he wasn't the one leading it. The criminal was missing, sure, but with no finger prints, no DNA at the crime scene it was hard to be convinced that such a meticulous attempt to keep themselves hidden would outright name the culprit. That unfortunately left them with nothing. Even the interrogation with the individual turned up next to nothing.

“I think I have a lead,” Christian stated, his voice barely above a whisper.

“What? Who?” Lucifer demanded, startled.

“It may be nothing. I mean, it was just weird and I could be looking too far into it, especially considering it came right after--”

“Out with it, Christian. At this point, any lead is something,” Lucifer growled. He slightly regretted his tone when Christian audibly gasped on the other end, but only slightly.

“I met someone outside the cafe who knows who you are and doesn't like you. I think his name was Mr. Trent.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Twitter: @Vaellin


	35. A lead, you said?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the delay. I'm about halfway through the next chapter though. So hopefully it wont be another month before this release. Getting a new job has helped significantly with motivation. Especially since it has a lot of downtime and access to a computer. So I've been working on the story in my spare time.

When the elevator door opened, Maze groaned audibly, sitting up from her very relaxing position of sprawled haphazardly on the couch. Her groan intensified when she spied the visitors. Lucifer and Trixie may enjoy playing with their little group of friends, and Maze didn’t hate them, but bringing them over to her place without one or the other coming along? Unthinkable.

Christian stood at the front, the obvious leader in the absence of Trixie and Maryann, with a haunted expression. It was as if he was still trying to fit the puzzle pieces together but nothing quite matched, just a touch too big or small. Added on top of that was fear, which was echoed in the rest of the kids.

Whatever, Maze was used to others being afraid of her. It hurt when they knew her, but she wouldn’t let it affect her. Lounging back, the demon flashed a predatory smile to her guests. One flinched, the solitary girl in their group at the moment, but the others just shuffled awkwardly. “So, what brings you to my humble abode?”

“Lu sent us. He said he wants you to protect us so long as we’re possible targets,” Christian muttered.

“Targets? What for?” Maze asked, sighing. Her former boss still felt like she belonged to him, even though they’d long ceased that relationship. She had no intention of obeying him, not without good reason.

“Trixie’s been kidnapped,” Christian replied. For a moment, a deeper emotion fluttered to the surface before being covered by the fear and contemplation from before. But the demon saw it for just that moment and knew it’s scent, savored it. Rage, pure unadulterated rage. Maze’s grin widened. Oh how she’d love to go hunting with this kid one day.

Wait. “Trix has been kidnapped and Lucifer expects me to just stay here? Hell no, I’m not going to take the backseat when my friend is in trouble!”

“Lu said…”

“I don’t care what he said; I’m going to go look for her.”

“Lu said that if the culprit is looking for us, we would be the perfect bait!” Christian hissed, standing firmly in the way while the other three positioned themselves beside him. She could get passed anyway, but the audacity gave her pause. “He said they have a lead they’re going to check up on and they would call you when they find out more.”

Oh he thought he could find a lead better? Maze growled at the idea, but hesitated when she considered the first statement. Bait. These fiery little teens were willing to act as bait. And who was she to say no?

“Okay, you can stay. But you better listen to my orders when we move to capture this bastard.” Excited, Maze set about preparing her loft for an ambush, pulling out old traps and decoys with a vicious grin on her face.

The demon knew, in a way, this was a means to keep her distracted and with the kids that Lucifer didn’t have time to protect, but she was okay playing the game for now. By tonight she’d have a setup that could thwart even an angel, hold them until she returned from a hunt while “protecting” the teens. Then she’d go on the prowl herself.

*

The man in the interrogation room shook like a leaf, an action that only intensified as he turned to the detective and her consultant. Chloe didn’t believe a single bit of it. When he’d switched places with Grant--whenever that was-- and put the tracking anklet on, he had to have known exactly his fate. The police would eventually come looking for the criminal he was pretending to be. Besides, there was a slight yearning expression on his face, directed towards the angelic consultant behind her.

When they’d interrogated him before, the individual named Abraham had provided them with little information. He said he only knew Grant as the leader of their group, that he would do anything for Grant or for God but he hadn’t really meant any ill will. Grant was a good man, Abraham claimed, and was wrongly accused. Essentially, he’d admitted to his crimes but gave no leads for where his leader went. Even with the information they had recently obtained, through an odd source, Chloe wasn’t confident it would go anywhere. But she had to try. Her daughter was missing and she had to try every possible avenue.

The expression on Lucifer’s face, barely contained anger and fear, echoed her thoughts.

“Abraham, you have no intention of telling us anything about Carmen Grant.” Chloe slowly pulled out her chair, though her partner remained standing.

“I do! He’s innocent. I was just helping an innocent man!” Abraham pleaded.

“I assure you he’s not,” Lucifer hissed.

Chloe hummed an agreement, but pressed on. They weren’t asking about Grant and they’d already gone on a tangent the previous night over Grant’s innocence. “I’m not here to talk about Grant this time. What can you tell us about a man named Michael Trent?”

“Michael?” Abraham puzzled, clearly recognizing the name. He folded his hands, fidgeting as he considered his words. Lucifer huffed in annoyance before stepping forward and catching Abraham’s eyes.

The shift of posture once Lucifer held him in rapture was immediate. Whether weak-willed or a result of possible exposure to divinity before now, Chloe couldn’t say, but he suddenly looked as if Lucifer held the secret to Nirvana. The disgust in Lucifer’s face didn’t dissuade Abraham at all.

“Abraham, clearly there’s something you want, yes? Perhaps we can strike a deal in exchange for information on our mutual Michael. Hm?”

Abraham’s thought process seemed to slow immensely as he tried to think about what he wanted, drawn in by the dark eyes of the Devil. “Your wings. I want to see your wings.”

Lucifer sniffed in annoyance before casting his gaze about the room momentarily, taking in the cameras instantly. After only a moment more, Lucifer shook his head. “Not that. I won’t have another crazed maniac willing to kill over them. Or at least I won’t make it worse. Something else.”

Another long pause followed and Chloe fought the urge to push, knowing that she could break Lucifer’s hold on the man and she didn’t want to have to wait _longer_ to get what she needed. Finally, Abraham spoke again. “The truth. I want the truth. How do I get to paradise?”

“No clue, haven’t found it yet,” Lucifer snapped before sighing and leaning back. “I assume you mean the Silver City, Heaven.” Though it wasn’t a question, Abraham nodded. The lure of Lucifer’s desire mojo faded, gradually returning the fidgeting man from before. “Well that’s simple. Don’t do anything that you’ll feel guilty over enough to torment yourself endlessly over.”

“That’s it?” their witness questioned, furrowing his brows.

“Mm-hm. Well, it’s a lot harder in practice than theory, but that’s it. Now, we answered your questions. Tell us what we want to know about Michael Trent.”

Abraham stilled again except the idle tapping of his fingers. “Sally would have been a better person to ask. Before she left, she had been considered third in charge.”

Sally Monroe? Chloe pondered, recalling the first case she’d half helped with after she’d been healed. No, that wasn’t important yet. They couldn’t talk to the dead, after all. Even if she’d gone to Hell, there was no way Chloe would risk losing Lucifer by sending him back before he was ready. Hopefully, he wouldn’t even think of it.

“Michael was considered Carmen’s right hand man, but he didn’t really get involved with us, you know? He was known the be the supplier of the um…” Abraham locked his gaze over Lucifer’s shoulder, a slight dreamy smile on his lips. “The goods. But I don’t know where he got them. Outside of that, Michael came off more of Carmen’s… shadow I suppose.”

That confirmed two things. One is that Michael did know about Lucifer, though how and where he got the feathers was still a mystery. Two was that he was involved in Carmen Grant and his “charity.” Damnit, Chloe buried her face in frustration at how well he’d hid the truth of his life from them. Was he ever actually seeking to become a detective or was he just keeping an eye on her? The former partner of the Devil. When did he find out about Lucifer? And when did he…

“Marcus. He must have gotten the feathers from then,” Chloue muttered.

“What’s that?” Lucifer asked, turning to the detective with a grimace. Chloe waved a hand at him, indicating they could talk about it later.

“Abraham, if Michael or Carmen were to go anywhere to get away from the city, somewhere to initiate people or something without being spied on, where would they go?”

Abraham shifted his weight from side to side, once again taking several moments to collect his thoughts. “I am not sure where, but supposedly we have a headquarters away from the city. Sally or Carmen would know. You could ask Carmen. He’d help if it was for a good cause.” He hung his head slightly before quietly asking “How long am I going to get?”

“That’ll be up to the judge,” Chloe said, hastily standing as an idea popped into her head. “But I’ll make sure they know about your cooperation in this investigation, so it should be more lenient.”

“How long will Carmen get?”

If Chloe had her way? Life in prison. That wasn’t what Abraham wanted to hear, though, and they might need more from him later so she just shrugged and guided her partner out of the room. She had an idea, one she was beating herself up over. And since it was connected to another realization, she could kill two birds with one stone.

*

Trixie was hungry. Unfortunately, asking her captors for food seemed impossible, alone as she was. They gave her very little freedom and very little information, covering her face whenever they thought above moving her and hand feeding her water. She was still in the large room, the ballroom she’d decided, but she’d gone to one other room besides this one. They’d even made it awkward by taking a long winding route to try and throw her off, while blindfolded. It was pointless though, as pointless as the fact she could actually remember the route through diligent training from Maze. After all, it only led to the restroom.

She could try to escape during that time. Her legs were unbound even if her hands weren’t. There would only be one chance, though, so she’d have to make it count.

Thinking about her options, even if they ended up fruitless, was about all she could do. All she had to do, too. Without trying to plan, trying to do _something_ her attention fell over her miserable state. She was hungry. She was tired and she wanted to just breakdown and cry, but she wouldn’t so long as Michael Trent and Carmen Grant had a chance to see her like that. But her arm _ached_ something fierce, burned in a way that told her healing was going to be longer than planned. Pulsing, angry pain was a constant now, but she could find some solace in distracting herself with just about anything else.

Behind her, the former substitute teacher snorted in a half doze. He was on either a cot or a chain, Trixie thought, and wasn’t sleeping deeply. The occasional startled noise kept her up in turn, too, but she was okay with that. More time for planning even if her body felt heavier by the minute.

“...taking down an angel?”

Trixie jolted slightly, pushing herself up as best she could, ignoring her arm’s screaming protest. People were talking. They were muffled behind the wall, but if she focused she could make out some of the words.

“...wings...out…” a quieter man responded, one Trixie was pretty sure was Trent. So there were definitely more than just the two captors.

“... won’t…. Easy…”

“...have weakness… detect…”

The voices faded after that, a few seconds of indecipherable muttering before nothing but the disruptive snores of Mr. Grant. Trixe relaxed her body finally, though her mind raced. “Taking down an angel” obviously meant Lucifer. Wings out meant… they were worried about the wings? Maybe. Thinking was getting hard after so many hours tied up uncomfortably. One thing she knew for sure was that they knew her mother was Lucifer’s weakness and they planned to use it against him.

*

“Okay, so what are we looking for in here again?” Ella asked, walking through the endless tubs of evidence, cabinets stuffed with papers and who knew what else. Lucifer definitely smelled old blood among the scent of dust and ink.

“Sally Monroe’s case,” Chloe answered, scanning the numbers for the appropriate file.

“Okay, more accurate question. _Why_ are we looking for it? You think it’ll lead to finding Trixie?”

Technically, Lucifer was pretty sure they weren’t on the case to find the Spawn. Something about conflict of interest. No one had stopped them, though, as the two took the lead. Which was a good thing, as Lucifer was positive he wouldn’t be able to hold back if someone stood in his way. On one hand, the most likely person to interfere was out of the office that day. On the other hand, they were also the number one suspect.

“Sally was a member of Carmen Grant’s “Heaven on Earth” group in the past, remember? We found no evidence other than a photo of her with a group of people from the group. I was hoping to find a lead there.” Chloe pulled out a cabinet drawer and began rifling through the pages, likely for a photo. “And after that I want to verify some things with the case file on Marcus Pierce. I think I may have an idea where the group got Lucifer’s feathers.”

The Devil watched the two girls for a few moments longer before stepping out of the room, needing to get out of the cramped space. He leaned against the wall, wondering why he felt drained, why he wasn’t in there helping. They needed to find Beatrice as quickly as possible and that meant him helping.

“Because you know this isn’t where you belong. You know this is your fault.”

Lucifer closed his eyes but could see Uriel anyway, leaning against the wall beside him.

“Come on, Brother, you didn’t think I’d go away so easily, did you? Did you enjoy your quiet time with the Detective?”

Lucifer pushed off of the all, hurrying back to Chloe’s desk without answering his brother. He hadn’t thought him gone, could hear his voice among the other phantoms even when they were faint, which fortunately was most of the time. What he had hoped was that they’d remain muted, just a subtle whisper in his ear.

Unfortunately, Uriel had other plans. Linda had suggested Lucifer ignore the phantoms, which he’d agreed with, but this one seemed adamant to hold his attention, sitting casually in the Detective’s chair and flipping through the notepad she’d left out. Usually her desk was in either two states: clean and empty or organized with stacks of paper to sort through. The chaotic state it was in now spoke volumes about her own stress, her own worries. Not that Lucifer blamed her.

“It’s your fault, you know,” Uriel explained. “They’re clearly after your power so they took one of the people closest to you. You made it no secret that you care about those teens, and young Trixie the most.”

“I’m aware of that,” Lucifer growled under his breath. He’d already scolded himself, wondered how he failed to see this happening. How could Chloe continue to work beside him knowing that her daughter would be safe at home were it not for him?

But he’d also faced this guilt before and was learning to take time to think through it. His friendship, his bonds, with the young girl wasn’t a bad thing. As the Detective said, they were with him because they wanted to be. It was the vile human who treated kids like they were pawns that was to blame. That was the clear, rational thought.

Apparently rational thought couldn’t stop the guilt.

“It’s not just that, though, is it?” Uriel leaned the chair back, eyes locked onto the Devil’s. “You realized it when Chloe did too, didn’t you? How could a bunch of desperate people get ahold of enough feathers to sway a large group, even years after you left? It all ties back to one incident. One sin.”

Lucifer kept silent. Not because he was ignoring Uriel; he’d long since been drawn in by his brother’s sweetly poisoned words. Nor was it because he didn’t want to cause a scene in the precinct. He had no words _to_ say that Uriel wasn’t already saying.

“You killed a human, Luci. One of the most important rules that all angels have to abide by--including you. Did you think there would be no consequences for your actions?” Uriel sat up and leaned forward, his grin malicious. “Or did you think that the consequences were Chloe’s rejection and your temporary residency in Hell? No, those were just natural causes of you being the monster that you are. You didn’t even feel guilt over Marcus’ death. That didn’t mean, however, that you’d be exempt from your punishment.”

Uriel stood up and paced around the desk until he stood once more beside his brother. “No, being Hell may have been a blessing as it was essentially a stay of execution. Now your real punishment has begun. An army of people who want your blood, perhaps literally.”

“What do you want from me?” Lucifer said, wishing his voice came out more like a growl than a whimper.

“I thought that was obvious? I want you to suffer.”

“Lucifer?”

If ever there was a Heavenly Choir on Earth, Lucifer doubted it’d hold a candle to Chloe’s voice at that moment. He jolted himself away from her desk, light returning to him where he hadn’t noticed its absence. The sound of the precinct came rushing back as well, including some worried whispers. Uriel vanished, but there was physical evidence of his torture in the form of cracks on the Detective’s desk.

“We found the picture and I think we have a lead, but I need to head to Dan’s since I think he has Trixie’s permission slip from-- Are you okay, Lucifer?” Chloe’s determined tone quickly shifted to worry as she watched the Devil collect himself. He could almost hear her train of thought as she observed the situation. “Lucifer.”

She shouldn’t sound like that, saying his name as if it was a prayer, a calming sound. Her hand on his was warm, soft, and wonderful. He was drawn to both like a moth to a flame, the danger obvious but still irresistible. They caught each other’s gaze, unspoken words and gentle consoling passing between them for a few precious seconds before Lucifer broke away, a sorrowful smile on his face. “A lead, you said?”

Clearly, Chloe didn’t want to accept his avoidance so easily, but they both knew what the priority was. Trixie. “Yes. We’ll head over to Dan’s for now then hopefully we’ll have a destination and Trixie will be home safe after.”

“Then there’s no time to wait. Grab Miss Lopez and I’ll meet you at the car.”

*

Once more Maze was faced with something unthinkable. The kids were in the pool, playing or fighting or whatever they felt like doing. Except for one. Christian was trying to carefully sneak out of the apartment, heading towards the elevator in a crouched down state as if that’d make his red jacket any less visible. An untrained teenage boy trying to sneak out of a demon’s apartment. Unthinkable. Right?

“Where do you think you’re going?” Mazikeen drawled, leaning over the couch and draping her arms down the side.

Christian yelped, the sound high pitched like she’d crushed his balls. For a moment, Maze thought she saw his spirit jump out of his body and right back in, but it was probably just her imagination. Sounded like a fun torture method though.

“Thought you could sneak out of a bounty hunter’s home without her noticing?”

Sheepishly, the teen turned back to her, walking to the couch with his head hung low. “I guess I was wrong, huh.”

“No need to look ashamed. I’m not bothered,” Maze replied, shoving a piece of gum in her mouth. “I’m just supposed to protect you or some such nonsense. If you want to get yourself killed, that’s your business. But I am curious about just where you were going.”

The boy spared a few moments to think over his reply before shrugging. “To get some alcohol. I figured you wouldn’t be okay with a bunch of underage kids stealing from the shelves downstairs.”

“Wrong. Everyone knows I _delight_ in that kind of irresponsible and, most importantly, fun activity. Try again.”

Once more, Christian had to think about a response. This time, however, he seemed resigned to the truth. “I have to go help them.”

“Help who? Lucifer? Trixie?”

“Both, I guess.”

“Yeah, and what,” Maze added, smacking her gum to punctuate the question, “do you think you can do to help them?”

“I think I figured out where they’re keeping Trixie.”

“Oh?” Maze vaulted over the couch, towering over the teenager, her grin like a Cheshire cat. “Do tell.”

Christian attempted to stand proud under her, though he instinctively cowered, hunching his shoulders as he stepped back. “Mr. Grant invited us to a cabin for the summer. Obviously that plan is canceled, but I can’t help but think… even if Mr. Grant has no involvement, I can’t help but shake the feeling that’s exactly where Mr. Trent took Trixie.”

Maze watched the teen gathering courage, a stalwart figure before a predator. He knew what she was, what they all were. It was clear in his eyes, but he still tried to face her, still wanted to go out and help the _Devil_ free a girl from a criminal. He had guts, that was for sure. A little pit demon himself. And she wasn’t fooled for a moment into thinking he just wanted to drop off some information and skip back to safety. That was what cell phones were for. No, he was after the same thing Maze was after. A hunt. “Okay. Come with me, we’re going to get ready. Properly. Then the hunt is on.”


	36. Let. Her. Go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. One scene in particular (the one with a lot of Maze in it) was a struggle for some reason. I will get to replying to comments later today--I have like 29 in my inbox and I plan to reply as soon as I get the opportunity.

A quick stop by Dan’s place to find the paper, half an hour of searching, and another ten minutes of explaining to Dan that he needed to stay home in case they were wrong and/or the kidnappers called for a ransom, then finally they were back on the road. Lucifer’s nerves were obviously frayed, still absorbed in whatever had bothered him back at the precinct. Being shoved into the backseat with his sister, who had arbitrarily decided to join them, probably didn’t help but he already broke his own phone when initially typing in directions, a display of strength that was clearly unintentional. All four had decided it was better to let Ella play navigator, placing both angels in the back. At times, it looked like there were three adults in the back, cramp and pressed into the sides as the two were.

The saving grace that helped Chloe, and likely the rest of the group, was Ella talking excitedly about all the plans she had once Trixie was safe. Her plans didn’t just include Trixie and some didn’t include her at all. Instead they were summer plans, celebration plans, reunion plans, and about everything the tiny Latino girl could come up with that gave her an excuse to hang out with her friends. A neon party plan was even mentioned, as a replacement for a girl’s night out. Rae-Rae, apparently, was now part of the Tribe since everyone knew her.

Lucifer was taciturn for the most part. Focused on the mission of finding her daughter, Chloe similarly was quiet, but every time she did contribute to Ella’s schedule, the detective was positive she saw Lucifer relax a touch, paying attention to her words, or perhaps her voice.

Something was going on with him, and she desperately wanted to help. The Devil would avoid her questioning though, and she had a more immediate concern. One they shared. Maybe it was connected and everything would be better once they found Trixie safe and sound.

Regrettably, the trip ended up delayed once more when their trip out of the city had them pulling over for gas. Her three passengers slid out of the police cruiser, stretching their legs before Ella hurriedly dragged the Angel of Death into the convenience store. Lucifer watched the nearby highway, eyes following a motorcycle as it sped by.

“Is it really okay to keep your sister here for so long?” Chloe asked when Lucifer joined her by the pump.

“Azrael knows what she’s doing. And I will take any help we can get,” the Devil replied. “I was under the assumption you would as well.”

“I want her help, I do. I just…” Chloe huffed out a breath and ran a hand through her hair. When Lucifer caught her hand and held it in his own, she noticed she was shaking. A jolt of fear caused her to shiver. Lucifer’s hand let go, sliding up her arm before pulling her into a tight embrace.

“We’ll get her back, Chloe. I promise.” Lucifer placed a gentle kiss on top of her head before humming slightly in amusement. “If it helps, I bet our little Spawn is giving them a taste of Hell right now.”

*

Something had definitely changed. Trixie had been kept only in the presence of two people before, with her only confirmation on multiple people being the conversation she caught a while ago. Now she was being shoved into a box, her body cramped and hurt, with a heavy blanket or rug tossed over the top before the lid sealed her in. It dampened some of the noise, turned it into mostly just a cacophony of percussion, but different voices still made it to her ears, if not their words. She tried to count. Five, no six people. Maybe more, if some people sounded similar or weren’t talking. She didn’t hear Trent among them, but she wasn’t so familiar with him that she could pick his voice out, like she did her former teacher, who was definitely there.

Why was she being hidden though? No one talked to her or even saw her outside of Grant or Trent. So were they being kept from her or her from them? 

Think, Trixie, think.

What could she do to disrupt her kidnappers? Take a leap. Do the only thing she could think of. Because if not now, she wasn’t sure she would get another chance.

So she screamed as loudly as she could. The force of her voice echoed in the container she’d been forced into. She also kicked, her legs untied but pushed against the sides causing her to bump her shoulder, her head, her back. She put up a fight, as if the very wooden walls around her were a real foe, something she could take down with a knife.

As she began to tire, the lid the imprisoned her was lifted off. She shoved herself as far up as possible, her head hitting the cloth as it was being pulled away as well. Then, Trixie came face to face with the face of her teacher. Grant scowled at her. Two more people were transfixed on her appearance, but neither seemed distressed, just confused.

“Do I need to knock you out in order to get you to shut up?” Carmen asked.

“Who is she, Carmen?” one person standing nearby said.

“Chloe Decker’s daughter, Trixie. And a good friend of the Devil.”

“Ah, so she’s the bait you guys were talking about?”

“I’m also friends with a demon! And another angel! And I swear that all of us will make sure you pay,” Trixie hissed. Carmen was unphased at her rant, but she did catch a few guys become physically nervous. 

Sighing, Carmen dropped the cloth back on her head. “You do that, Trixie. But in the meantime, can you keep it down while we set things up? It’s just an annoyance on our part and a waste of energy on yours. You’ll be out again soon enough.”

The teen struggled against her bindings, but the lid was back on before she could attempt to block it. Then once again, she was subjected to listening to the muffled conversations of her kidnappers.

She was tempted to scream anyway, but Carmen Grant was right, it was a waste of energy. For now. Instead, she waited. Carefully trying to pick everything out until once more the lid was pulled off, cloth and all. A new face, an unfamiliar face gazed at her before reaching down and helping her to her feet.

Trixie begrudgingly accepted the help, glad to have her injured arm no longer pressing painfully against the edges of her container. The relief almost made her smile, but then she heard Grant’s voice call out. “Get her on the altar. Make her presentable. This has to be perfect if we want to take down the Devil himself.”

The man nodded stiffly, hauling the teenager back as they replaced the lid on the container she’d been caged in. Behind them was the altar Trent mentioned, carved marble shaped like a bowl with curved rims that’d been sliced in two. Under it was a larger basin of stained wood with hooks on the rim. Though still tied up, Trixie had no doubt those hooks were for securing her to the altar. Her stomach dropped.

It was now or never, she thought.

Halfway to the altar, Trixie let out a startling yell, her banshee scream echoing in the room harshly even to her own ears. Jutting her foot out, she swept the leg of the man holding her and knocked him over. Then she took off running, bowling over two more people as she went for the curtains. Surely there was a window or door behind them.

Except, as she shoved her head under one, there was just more wall. She made it to another curtain before they caught up, but it too had just wall underneath.

A hand grabbed her, pulling her back with the grumblings of an annoyed adult, but she spun on him, biting his arm as hard as she could. Free again, she scrambled for the door, shoving her former aside on her way out. Down the hallway, she figured she’d have to guess on the escape route. The winding path to the bathroom certainly made it seem like a maze.

The hallway, however, lead right to the entryway. Two doors stood proudly, the last obstacle between her and freedom. Her hands were tied up still but she could manage a door knob like this if she was quick enough. She couldn’t hesitate. She was tired, sore, and had a headache, but her enemies were hot on her heels. So Trixie ran for the door, sprinting with a burst of energy. Out of here, find a road, find a car, get home safe. That simple. Hopefully.

A hard force pushed against her back, shoving her forward and into the door with a resounding crack from the door as well as her arm. Her vision went white with pain as she collapsed on the ground under the weight of a human being. Despite her determination to remain strong, a whimper escaped.

“It’s your fault for trying to escape,” Michael said, his voice cold and monotonous. It gave him no pleasure to tackle her, the voice said, but he really didn’t care if she was hurt either. Just part of the job.

*

They’d been walking half a mile, having left the motorcycle behind, hidden from the road but otherwise unprotected. “Who would steal from a demon?” Maze had explained with a vicious grin. Christian didn’t feel like explaining that no one would know it belonged to a demon. He still hadn’t voiced it aloud and somehow the idea of being with a demon terrified him more than being with the Devil. Likely because he _knew_ his energetic, scarred, and charming boss, but Maze was more an acquaintance. Still, he’d follow an army of demons if it meant ensuring Trixie’s safety. 

The walk was hard, having to creep through the underbrush as they followed Maze’s nose instead of the road. If the kidnappers saw them, they’d lose their ambush chances. Or worse, the criminals would realize they were compromised and then so would their hostage. 

Eventually, fluorescent lights peaked through the branches, and the two intruders pulled to a stop. Maze easily shoved her way into a small bush glancing from her hiding spot and mumbling to herself as Christian pressed himself against the tree and attempted to peer around the trunk. Every time he would get a glimpse of the cabin ahead, though, Maze would kick him back. A silent and firm “too far, idiot.” Perhaps it was best to just let the demon scout.

For now, what could he do? Christian patted the dark pants he had on, feeling the odd bits and gadgets Maze had shoved onto him. None of what he wore were his own. Maze had taken him on a very quick shopping trip to grab sturdy black pants, black steel toe boots, a long sleeved turtleneck and a beanie. It’d taken her fifteen minutes and everything fit perfectly.

“Trust me, I’ve undressed millions of people before, and not just for sex. I can guess at least that much,” the demon explained. Though why she was keeping track of clothes sizes for, Christian decided to leave unanswered. Much of Mazikeen was best left unanswered.

Yeah, she terrified him. But then again, that made her a powerful ally, right?

Along with the clothes, she’d seen keen to outfit him with tactical gear. A heavy duty flashlight, a canister of bear spray, and a hunting knife were strapped to his belt. An earpiece and mic were hidden under his hat and shirt, and even a pair of night vision goggles rested on top of his head, though he doubted he knew how to use a majority it all.

“Okay, seems there about three people outside. One posted at the door and two patrolling. None seem experienced in combat and all seem scared already, and they haven’t even seen us. Should be easy pickings. But just in case, I want you to stay behind me. Don’t need you tripping me up. If anyone gets close to you, use the spray first, but make sure you’re not down wind. If you’d prefer to use the knife, go ahead.” Mazikeen crawled forward, waving him forward as well with her foot.

Christian swallowed around the lump in his throat and moved in. The cabin was large, with a couple of two or three story towers. There was even a separate building, something that resembled a large barn with an overpass attached, though the overpass had been boarded up with plywood. All the lights were bright outside, but dark curtains over the sparse windows made the inside seem black. 

“Something seems odd about the door,” Christian muttered, trying to squint through the darkness around him and into the lamplight ahead.

“Good catch. It’s bowed, like something hit it really hard. Downside, it could be wedged in there. Upside is that I doubt they managed to lock it.” Maze chuckled darkly. “Meaning we won’t need Lucifer to get in quickly.”

The demon crouched, one hand braced on the ground and a predatory grin on her face. “And now we begin. Try to keep up, kid.”

She darted ahead, fast and almost invisible in the darkened surroundings. Even once she left the dark, the hunter was nothing but a shadow falling on her prey before he could even let out a cry for help. Afterwards, she stood over his fallen body, the victor in a short bloodless battle.

“Come on, kid, don’t just stand there,” she hissed, her voice quiet but clear. Christian, frozen to the spot at the display, nodded stiffly and scrambled up the path with less grace. “There are two others. They’ll discover this guy soon, so let’s get in quick.” Silently, the teen nodded again, and felt relieved when the man by their feet groaned in pain. Not dead. 

Mazikeen heaved the entry open, the breaking of the doorway cracking, echoing down the hallway and into the surroundings. The doors hung loosely on their hinges, bowing and giving the impression of surrender to the huntress. Maze sneered, gesturing Christian forward and stalking in ahead. “So much for stealth,” she growled.

“Could be worse,” Christian whispered. “They could have found us before we managed to get in.”

The demon smirked at him, twirling two curved daggers from her belt and progressing into the building with the teen close behind. Christian dragged the doors closed as best he could, knowing the two guards outside would be rushing in at any moment; this way there was no surprise. Three people were running into the hallway, surprised at the noise but all immediately hesitated at the sight of the woman. Behind them, sneered a voice Christian knew all too well.

“She’s a demon, my acolytes. God is at your side for taking her down. You will find yourself on the way to Heaven for your actions!” Mr. Grant crowed. The people didn’t move, clearly intimidated. Maze took a step forward; they took a step back. 

“If you aren’t going to fight,” the demon growled, a mixture of amusement and annoyance in her tone, “then tell me where they’re keeping the kid.”

“We will not cave to your temptations or threats, demon,” Grant said, his voice full of authority. It was moving, like the voices Christian heard in school assemblies. Coupled with a dim light Christian could see from around the corner and it almost pulled him in. Almost.

The acolytes, however, caved to his voice, muttering agreements as the broken entrance was shoved open. Five on two, the five having guns. Maze shoved Christian down as the first wave of bullets rang out, moving out of the way at an inhuman pace. Her blades flew from her hand, two striking one guard at the door in the chest, and followed by the woman herself tackling him to the ground and pulling the weapons out. She spun low on the body in a fluid motion, her daggers hooking on the other guard’s ankles before she sprung up and kicked his head, knocking him hard onto the door frame.

Another wave of bullets had come and gone, a couple clearly scoring her arm but doing nothing to hinder the onslaught as she darted across the floor and onto the third person. Christian crawled on the ground, to a wall where he’d be out of the way. Watching her work was equally terrifying and beautiful. Violence was an art to her, a means to portray who she really was. Deadly, decisive, and unstoppable. And surprisingly caring. The teen wasn’t under the illusion that Maze had never killed, would ever think killing was wrong, but the groans from her victims told another tale. She didn’t care about their lives, but cared what others thought about her actions. There was a kid with her that’d never seen this much violence, so she held back, slightly. 

Or maybe he was reading too much into it and these guys were just lucky.

The fifth acolyte, the last remaining, finally broke his resolve, backing away again before turning and booking it around the corner. Maze started to give chase, but as she disappeared behind the wall, another light shined, this one brighter than the one before and followed by a cry from the demon.

“Maze!” Christian called out, hurrying after her while doing his best not to look at the four fallen men. Another cry rang out, this one deeper and definitely not the demon’s. Christian stepped into the scene where a shaking Maze held up a man with one burnt hand and a dagger slowly sliding up his chest. Grant coughed, blood trickling out of his mouth and a bandaged foot slipping, unable to hold the weight of his body. A handful of bloodied feathers were clutched in one palm.

“I knew… it would work… just not… as well as I hoped,” Grant choked out, a breathy laugh following. Maze let the body down slowly, slumping against him as she did. “Divinity… can be a wea...pon as well as a… blessing, I guess.”

“Maze!” Christian repeated. He meant to help her, pull her away and carry her to safety, but she faced him when he spoke, and half of her face was burnt, melted, distorted. Worry would have consumed him, but the damage seemed old, or almost natural. Her true face. The teen froze and Maze sneered, letting out a humorless laugh.

“I’m fine, brat, go and help Trixie.”

Trixie still needed help. That was their goal and someone just ran off, likely to tell whoever else was there of the intruders. Time was of the essence. The fact that Maze was telling him to go on ahead, though, indicated a lot more problems with the huntress than she was presenting.

Taking a deep breath, Christian knelt beside Maze, pulling her arm away from the dagger and the bleeding teacher, and wrapped one over his shoulder. She stared at him. “I decided to accept the devil as my friend; a demon could hardly damn me more,” he stated, standing her up on wobbling legs, all four legs between the two of them. “Let’s regroup. Lu should be here soon, I hope. We did what we could.”

*

Something was up. Besides the abandoned motorcycle Lucifer witnessed on the way up. Maze had arrived here, no doubt having figured out a lead before him. That damned bounty hunter. Well, that certainly explained why she didn’t answer his cell phone when he’d called her. What it didn’t explain was this uneasiness he felt. Silence in the forest was one thing. She could dispatch people with ease and there was always the possibility that she’d swept over them like the tide, taking down Michael Trent and any allies before they knew what hit them. But something in Lucifer’s gut told him that wasn’t the case.

“If she’s hurt, that’s on you for not bringing her along,” Uriel’s ever present phantom whispered in his ear.

They drove up the gravel road and stopped just outside the glow, already witness to an attack. A man lay outside, propped up against the wall. The doors to the building were torn from their hinges and swung wide, at an angle. The entrance was lit up with two more bodies immediately visible in the doorway. Definitely Maze’s handiwork. Of course, she’d always been incredibly capable, what was he thinking--

“Lu! Ms. Decker! Ella!”

The crowd of four were greeted by one of the last people they expected. Christian jogged up to them from the woods, bloody, dirty, and trembling but otherwise fine. The nervous grin he plastered on brought a surge of panic back to the Devil. Uriel laughed in his ears, but he steadying breath kept him in control. He couldn’t break down. Not now, not when Trixie needed him.

Still, it helped to smell the wooden air, the iron-scented blood, the slightly burnt smell of flesh. He blinked. “Who hurt her?” he demanded, his voice dangerous and quiet. Christian held his hands up, waving vaguely at the building with one of them.

“Mr. Grant, but she took care of him.”

“She? She who?” Chloe questioned. “How did you get here? No, wait, I know the answer to that.” The Detective groaned, rubbing her head as if a headache was coming. She, like Lucifer, was anxious and the presence of the demon was a mixture of good and bad.

“Maze drove me here,” Christian answered anyway. “But she was hurt. Mr. Grant did something with some light and I think it burned her. Though, it’s hard to tell to be honest.” He grabbed his arm nervously. Something else was bothering him, but he was fighting to keep it from becoming a problem. If they had time, Lucifer would drag it out, help the teen, but they didn’t.

“Let me see her,” the Devil stated, already moving in the direction Christian came from.

“Wait!” Azrael interrupted. “I’ll take care of it. Ella and I will watch over the kid and Maze, do what we can here. Trixie _needs_ you, though.”

Lucifer blinked owlishly at the Angel of Death before nodding, redirecting himself towards the building. She was right. Splitting up was the best plan of action and he and the detective were the best choice to go after the spawn. They made a good team and were more adept at working a case together than Miss Lopez or Rae-Rae. The angry brother in his ear telling him he was sacrificing Maze for Trixie was just going to have to deal.

“Lu!” Christian called out. “She’s in the building over there, separated from the rest!” The teen pointed to the large barn-like structure with the entrance blocked. “You can get there through the hallway; it’s a straight run.” Lucifer nodded, acknowledging the bit of help. “Oh, and Lu? Give them Hell.”

*

Michael would not admit he was afraid. Facing down the Devil took courage, and that was what he had, in spades. Everything was coming together. It was now that he’d rid the world of evil once and for all, remove the origin of temptation and corruption. God was on his side, good was on his side, he believed that. With every fiber of his being, he believed this was the right path.

Ever since the day he saw that monster, that burnt man with no remorse of punishing people as he chose, Michael knew something would have to change. But nothing did, not permanently. Leaving after Detective Decker’s near death encounter? He returned, distant but only temporarily so. Killing the Lieutenant, even if the man was a mob boss? Acquitted on the grounds of self defense. Even a six or so years absence had the Devil coming back to his city, plaguing the people and bringing them down with him. Who knew what he’d done in his absence, where else he’d gone?

Michael had come to a conclusion that one of two things needed to happen. Lucifer needed to go back to Hell, or be removed from reality entirely. If Michael Trent was the one who had to do it, then that's how things would be. Still, he was disappointed in Decker and the others from not resisting the Devil. Still, he hated how many innocents were hurt as he progressed to his goal. Still, the idea of hurting the girl churned his stomach. Still, his hands quivered at the memory of the Devil and having to face him again. But he would do it.

He’d received a report that the demon had arrived, that her master was likely close behind. Fine. He was ready.

“They’re going to destroy you,” Trixie whimpered, bound tightly to the altar with sign of a concussion clouding her eyes. She violently heaved as if to throw up, but she’d had so little in the way of food and water that nothing followed this time. Thank goodness, the first time had been a nightmare to clean up. 

“Not if I destroy them first,” Michael responded, compelling his voice to remain emotionless. The worst part was that it wasn’t nearly as forced it should have been, not when he knew he would likely have to shoot down one of LAPD’s best detectives. Was he losing a part of his humanity? So be it, then. Sacrificing himself was but another piece of this cog.

No, that wasn’t quite right. He’d always hated Lucifer, but when had it started to consume him so strongly? Grant was rubbing off on him, probably.

“You don’t stand a chance against them,” the teenager before him slurred, trying to glare at him but limited by both her mental capacities and the physical bonds.

“Your opinion is biased,” Trent replied. “I disagree.” He was, after all, prepared for the worst.

The doors slammed open a moment later, two figures standing before him, ready for just about anything. “LAPD! Put your hands up!” Chloe bellowed into the room. None obeyed, they knew she was coming. But nor did any raise their guns, eyes locked on the Devil and the detective, cowed by their religion as much as it motivated them. Their inaction had Detective Decker repeating her command, with the man behind her towering menacingly. Even with her daughter captured, Decker observed the entire room. Lucifer’s eyes were only on one thing, which was exactly what Michael hoped for.

At the third demand for the men to lower their weapons, they were finally knocked out of their stupor and opened fire. The two intruders dove back around the entrance, putting a wall between them and a hail of bullets.

Michael sighed, staring at the child before him. “What can they possibly do?” he asked her when the echo of shots stopped. They weren’t wasting bullets by firing at a barrier, but the moment either stuck their head around the corner, his people would greet the two with their weapons. “You’re at my mercy. Lucifer may be incredibly power, but even he’s limited.”

Trent pulled out a small knife. It wasn’t ornate in any manner, just a switchblade he’d taken from the Evidence Room. Nothing ceremonial about this, just a show for his visitors and Grant’s acolytes.

“Lucifer Morningstar,” Trent said, raising his voice to carry down the hall. “Surrender yourself. Let my men kill you, or someone else will die in your place.” He didn’t need to specify who. They all knew and the whimper Beatrice involuntarily let out helped emphasize the point.

There was a silence, though he swore he heard hushed talk. Of course they’d argue about it. Chloe would want to find a way to save them both; Lucifer would want the quickest route to save Trixie. Lucifer was the one in control of the decision, though, and that was exactly what Trent was betting on.

“I’ll give you to the count of five.” He gestured to the closest man beside him, who obliged him by yelling out the first number.

“One!”

“Two!”

“I’ve no wish to harm her further, Lucifer, and I do think she needs medical attention.”

“Three!”

“She will come to no harm if you come forward. You have my word.”

“Four!”

Michael held the dagger above Trixie, prepared to make a move he’d regret. It was worth it to get the Devil though. Still… “You really are as they say. Selfish. Won’t even step forward to save the life of someone you are supposed to love.”

“Five!”

“Enough!” The roar of the Devil vibrated across the room, squeezing Michael’s heart in terror as the monster stepped out from behind the wall.

That face. That face was there again, red and scarred and hideous, the embodiment of evil with the burning fires of hell reflected in the irises. The outfit was an odd contrast, a casual attire like what he’d worn since his return instead of the suits that would work so much better. Those wings, however, absolutely fit. Pristine, unlike the broken and dirtied ones he’d collected, they shimmered with light, as if it dripped off the feathers like water. The glow was pure peace and as attention grabbing as the horror they encompassed.

No guns fired. They were all entranced by the wings, like getting hit with another dose of the drug they’d become so desperate for, but stronger. After all, this wasn’t a faded cluster of drop offs. This was the source. And said source was storming right towards him.

“Stop! Stop right there!” Trent shouted, holding the knife to his hostage. Lucifer obeyed, halting as his red eyes burned Trent’s hand with their glare. The trembling that Michael tried to keep down intensified.

“Let. Her. Go.” Lucifer growled, the threat unspoken but understood.

Michael didn’t respond. He held the Devil’s glare, fear and determination at war within him. A moment was held in time where they both read the fear in each other as well as the hatred, the anger. It was intertwined, and the similarity sickened Michael. How dare the Devil have feelings that made him seem human? How dare he shake Michael’s beliefs?

No. He was committed. His grip on the blade tightened and he felt grim satisfaction as the Devil’s eyes widened with realization. Just before Trent drove the blade into Trixie’s chest.

The sound that followed was inhuman and filled with emotion. Fear, sorrow, desperation. Wings spread wide and the monster flew forward in a flash, holding Michael Trent up and slamming him against the wall hard enough that he saw spots in his vision.

A second cry of despair followed, one Michael was vaguely aware belonged to Chloe Decker, but both men were bound to each other. Lucifer was shouting at him, demanding an explanation for his actions. “As if you don’t know. It’s all your fault,” Michael muttered. Lucifer’s tear stained visage wasn’t what Trent wanted. He wanted the Devil dead, but this was a consolation prize.

Then light surrounded them. Michael almost gasped as he was overwhelmed by a feeling of peace, as if the energy from the wings entered him. Peace, serenity, love, hope. As if he’d been left barren of these emotions and was suddenly bubbling over with them. The officer cried out, tears of his own starting to fall down his face. He didn’t know the cause; he didn’t care. Something was wrong with him, but he also felt like something had been righted.

He was out before the light faded.

*

Once the light of divinity reached his vision, Lucifer dropped the villain before him. He knew this light. It was his light, but it wasn’t coming from him.

The Devil slowly faced the altar. As if desperate to escape her body, light was exuding from the detective and surrounding her and Beatrice. The mother was crouched over her daughter, tears that matched his own flowing from her eyes. Chloe held her daughter as best she could, shaky hands eventually moving to cut the ropes that bound her daughter with a pocket knife. The limp body of the teen fell easily into her mother’s arms, both encased by blinding brilliance.

When the light faded, it felt as if the whole world was holding its breath. Only Chloe’s quiet, contained sobs broke the quiet.

“Mom?”

The word was soft, a breath on Chloe’s ear and only heard by two people in the entire room. The two people that mattered. One hand of the girl lifted up to hold her mother’s shoulder, tears starting to form in her dark eyes.

“Trixie. Oh, Trixie, oh thank God.”

Both women cried, hugging each other tightly, in need of the comfort the other brought. After a few moments, though, Trixie pulled away, her gaze moving to the man standing nearby. The monstrous face, even with his wings still on display, had to have been horrifying. It didn’t stop the Spawn from smiling, tears still spilling from her eyes.

“Lucifer?” The other arm that wasn’t wrapped around her mother, the one that he broke not long ago, reached out for him, beckoned him forward. He didn’t hesitate, reaching back and pulling himself into the hug before he realized a similar cascade of tears was falling from his face. They held each other, the three of them, just basking in each other’s presence and touch.

“Is it safe now?” Trixie asked.

There were the men in the room with guns, Trent’s goon that had drifted into a drugged-like state. Trent, the bastard, was also still alive, though similarly broken it seemed from his spaced out expression. It didn’t matter, though, because Lucifer and Chloe only had one answer.

“Yes, you’re safe. You don’t have to worry anymore.”


	37. A Journey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First: I POSTED TWO CHAPTERS IN ONE DAY. PLEASE GO BACK AND MAKE SURE YOU READ CHAPTER 36.  
> Second: Thank you all for the love and comments and everything I've received for writing this story. Six months, roughly, and 37 chapters. A bit of a bumpy road at the end with life, but this has been, as the title of the chapter indicates, a Journey. I've enjoyed it and enjoyed being able to talk to all of you throughout this time. I hope the last chapter can bring the same happiness your presence has brought me.  
> Third: I am planning a short (say 1-3 chapter) story that is ChristianxTrixie, so if you're interested do keep an eye out, but it won't be until probably December as NaNoWriMo starts soon.  
> Fourth: Last time here, I swear, but you can still reach me on twitter through @Vaellin. I'd love to hear from all of you in the future, and thank you to all who have talked with me there as well.

_Lucifer opened his eyes to see darkness and dust. A light before him, a sealed door behind him, and his brother to the side. Somehow, it wasn’t surprising and, though even being here brought the feeling of dread, he felt a familiarity in the place he’d lived for six years._

_“You thought you were free of me, didn’t you?” Uriel cooed into his ear._

_“Not really,” Lucifer replied, knowing it to be the truth. A part of him expected to carry the burden of his brother’s phantom for the rest of his life. He wanted Uriel to be gone, but the man had become the embodiment of guilt, not just over his own death but over all his wrong doings. “But I want to be.”_

_Uriel laughed, patting his brother’s shoulder companionably. “Wouldn’t that just be great for you?”_

_Lucifer sighed heavily. He was tired of putting up with Uriel, but the phantom would love to know that. Well, if he was stuck here, with no obvious Detective in sight, he may as well do something he’d been meaning to do for a while. Tugging on the cuffs of his suit and straightening his back, the Devil began to progress forward, towards the one contrasting thing in the entire landscape._

_“And where do you think you’re going?” Uriel demanded, falling in step with him._

_“On a journey.”_

*

The rest of the police force, Espinoza included, were quick to respond. Perhaps, Ella called the moment they split up, knowing that if Chloe and Lucifer didn’t handle things quickly then they’d be in dire straights. Medical assistance was hot on the heels of the cops, too, which was great considering the number of people in need of treatment. Of the four outside, only Mazikeen needed help, though she protested their aid. The blood on Christian’s clothes were entirely Mazikeens and her victims, who he had done minimal care for after getting Maze to safety.

Only one person died in the whole affair. One person Lucifer felt no grief over, but also not who the Devil felt deserved it the most. Not that _that man_ got off scott free. Almost in a comatose state, Officer Michael Trent was carried off on a stretcher, hopefully to never be seen again. And if they did, Lucifer would make sure it was Trent who regretted it.

Carmen Grant, at least, would suffer in a Hell Loop for the rest of eternity. He tried to claim his actions were justified but, deep down, he knew the death he brought were only for selfish gains. And he’d live with the knowledge portrayed to him again and again until his own world, his own mind, crumbled to dust.

On the plus side, Beatrice was unscathed. She was driven to the hospital, anyway--a different one than the one they were taking the “Heaven on Earth” members. Under very thorough checks, the spawn returned with a clean bill of health. Even her damaged arm was completely restored, and no stab wound was visible. This meant less to charge Trent with, if he ever woke up, but having the young pit demon safe and sound was entirely worth it.

A small celebration was held above Lux the following night, with Amenadiel, Linda, and the remaining members of the Club hurrying to set things up to look properly celebratory. According to a report from a drunk Linda later, they spent most of their time disabling traps and hiding sex toys and torture devices. That left them with very little time to decorate so mostly the rest came back to a “Happy Birthday” banner, a mess of party trays, and only water or alcohol to drink. The party, nevertheless, was enjoyable. Cheers, hugs, and board games consumed the night.

Simple happiness, just basking in the presence of each other. Of everyone.

*

_The world around him held memories, painful when he thought about them but warm when he simply recognized them. Linda’s decorations or books, Dan’s bobble heads and movie collection, Ella’s tools and silly shirts. Even an occasional Amenadiel and Maze item, though they were rare. He’d never really thought about why the demon and angel showed up less often. It wasn’t that he cared for them less, well maybe he brother, but still their phantoms were rare enough that they hadn’t affected him outside of his loop, save one moment when Maze had been injured at the cabin._

_Perhaps they were less vulnerable? No, Chloe was tough, impossibly so, and she was the most frequent haunt. Maybe he put more responsibility on them, since they knew who he was, really knew, throughout the entirety of their interactions. Lucifer really should talk to Linda about this when he woke up._

_“Time,” Uriel answered. “Those two aren’t vulnerable to the passage of time. The rest, however, you only have so long to make things right with them before they’re whisked off, away to a place you will never reach. And if they do end up a place you can go, we all know who is to blame for that.” The dead angel laughed bitterly. Lucifer cast a confused expression at him._

_“You’re not actually in Hell, brother. We both know you’re not the real Uriel.”_

_For a moment, the phantom wavered. He halted his progress, letting the Devil get a lead, clearly worried or scared. Lucifer waited, studying his torturer. Why would this bother him? It was known from the start, a weapon that had been used against the Devil because the painful truth was that Lucifer killed his own brother, forever. The real Uriel would never come back._

_“You’re all I have of him,” Lucifer realized, the fear draining from the phantom and into the true recipient. He hated the visage of his brother, used against him, whispering doubt and guilt into his consciousness, but he couldn’t let go, not when it was all he had left. He needed to, though, so his brother could finally be at peace._

*

Life settled into normalcy following the kidnapping. Of course there was follow up, paperwork to fill in, testimonies to give, court trials and funerals to attend, but overall peace returned to their daily lives. And with that peace was progress.

At first, Lucifer wasn’t quite sure how to handle it. The day Chloe and he decided to try and take the next step was the day the Spawn was kidnapped. But Chloe never showed any doubt in resuming what they’d put on pause, what they’d stopped so many times before. A week after Beatrice’s return, she swept into the cafe and invited him to dinner. A picnic on the beach, with the sun setting behind them and wine, cheese, and apples between them.

Simple. Far less elaborate than anything he’d come up with were date plans left to him--he was more extravagant limo and theater, ending with a rented room with full service from both the hotel staff for food and him for a more intimate evening. Yet simple was somehow perfect. Just the two of them talking, laughing, feeding small bites of food and teasing by pulling the bite away at the last moment, only to replace it with his lips pressed against hers.

The joy she brought him quelled the guilt that remained knotted in his stomach, in his soul. With her, he could be himself again, could start to forgive himself.

The same went with the Spawn, though in an entirely different manner thankfully. Her presence in his cafe brought a light and life to the small building that turned a place to reside into a place to live. Her club continued to frequent, adding more decorations and demanding he play more music. All of the members began to learn the ropes behind the counter, giving them purpose in the absence of their friends. Christian still remained his primary employee, but it was nice to have others fill in when Lucifer needed a break and Christian wasn’t available.

Personally, Lucifer preferred mornings with Beatrice. Sometimes Amenadiel or Azrael would slip in for a drink and some breakfast, but usually it was just the two of them. As it had been when he first returned. Though, it was less an escape, now. Like with her mother, the two just enjoyed talking, joking with each other, and bonding. Her hugs were frequent, and his return of the gesture just as strong. 

“Did I ever thank you?” Lucifer asked one morning as the first customers trickled in through the doors. Trixie easily switched from conversing guest to back up employee, helping him with the orders without breaking their conversation.

“What for? If anything, shouldn’t I be thanking you?” For saving her mother’s life, for saving her life, for staying here and being here when she needed it. She’d already thanked him for all of that, endlessly.

“I mean, for making me stay. When I was at my lowest point, you demanded I stay. The deal was supposed to be to help you, but instead, I believe, you helped me.” She saved him. By bringing his life back to him piece by piece.

Beatrice smiled gently at him before nudging him in the side. “I mean, duh. Where would our poor Devil be if not for his wonderful guardian Trixie?” the teen replied dramatically before ruining the comment by laughing. “Though, helping you _did_ help me. Otherwise I would worry about you for the rest of my life, you know? About the kind, arrogant, charming Devil who swept into our lives, caused us trouble but blessed it anyway with happiness. He deserves to have it all returned to him.”

“The trouble or the happiness?” he asked with a sly grin. Trixie didn’t respond, just beamed at him as she handed out a drink to an older woman chuckling about the ‘silly daughter picking on her father.’

Lucifer reached over and wrapped an arm around the young lady, pulling her in for a quick side hug. His own contentment was obvious on his face, the smile splitting his face. With these two women at his side, he could take on the world, Heaven, and Hell.

*

_After his statement of Uriel’s reality, the brothers walked in silence.The further from the elevator door they got, the smaller the heaps of dust. Still, the occasional artifact from his life before the loop would shine, a glimmer of color in a world of black and white._

_Lucifer looked down on the other anger. The quiet, puzzle solving, eager copy of Uriel. The start of his guilt, his first Hell Loop, his first serious crime since the Fall. It was no wonder he led the charge in tormenting him. He needed to let go, but would he ever truly do so?_

_“You know I cared about you,” he confessed, the words falling from his lips before he was aware. “You were my brother. I wanted you to be happy. I wanted_ all _of you to be happy. I just also wanted more.” He paused for a moment, only then away of the building of emotions in him, a tidal wave of regret over the years. He wouldn’t take back his fall, nor his time with the Detective, but he wished it didn’t have to be that way. Wished he or his siblings could have talked more afterwards, instead of being at war with each other each time they met._

_“I know,” Uriel responded, voice hushed and easily stolen by the wind. “I did too. It’s why even when facing you, I never wanted to bring the blade down on you.” The phantom breathed deeply, clearly battling his own surge of emotions. “If anything, I think you care the most. You forgive, accept, and love easily, as well as our Father.” The late angel turned sorrowful eyes up to the Devil. “Was it any wonder that you were the favorite son, Samael?”_

*

“I still see Uriel.”

“I’m sorry, who?” Christian didn’t stop his current activity, wiping down the tables while facing his boss.

“Ah, right, I forgot. Uriel’s my brother. Or was… he’s…” The Devil trailed off. It was a lot harder to talk about than he thought. He’d already discussed parts with Linda, but since Christian acted as active support, it was only fair that he be informed of the Devil’s continued troubles.

Fortunately, Christian seemed to understand, at least in part as he nodded and continued his job, replying casually as he did so. “That’s understandable. Your problems aren’t going to vanish overnight.”

Linda had said something similar. “I’m perfectly fine, now, though! I’ve reconciled with the Detective,” mostly, “and returned to my usual devilish self!” Mostly.

“Except the occasional spacing out and the major attack you had last week,” Christian retorted. He dropped the rag and locked eyes with Lucifer, frowning. “Lu, I get it, these attacks are horrible, not just in the moment but you worrying about the aftermath. The thing is, most people who suffer PTSD do so for the rest of their lives. Not even the Devil is going to conquer his nightmares in less than a year. It’s not a weakness. In fact, you constantly working at it, pushing through like you do is a sign of strength.”

Still, he’d made progress. At the very least, the troublesome little angel on his shoulder should be gone. Instead, it was constantly whispering doubts in his ear. Usually he could ignore it, but this morning the angel had appeared before him, taunting him and talking about how Lucifer was going to destroy this new happiness he’d made and take them all with him. He hated how true it sounded.

“Do you want to talk about him?” Christian asked when he noticed Lu’s contemplation.

Surprisingly, he did. Not about Uriel’s death, but about his life. The brother who saw patterns, but also maybe the sister who struggled to hold a blade or the other brother who sang off key. Lucifer powered up the machines again, making them both a cup--his own half filled with whiskey--and sat down to weave a tale for his employee, one he hadn’t spun for any human in a long, long time.

*

_The journey came to an end at last, with Lucifer standing before the the star of his Hell Loops. Uriel wasn’t there any more. No phantoms were. Just him and the light that had stayed with him throughout the entirety of his torture._

_It’d always been there, but he’d never once reached out to it. Why was that? What was it? He’d come to the realization of both when Chloe had released all the energy left in her to save her daughter. It was the two girls he cared about most brilliantly glowing that brought him to his conclusion._

_The light was his divinity. No, that wasn’t it. It was all of his blessings. The love and forgiveness that Uriel talked about, for his friends and family. The care and heart for the people he made deals with. It wasn’t all of who he was; Lucifer was most definitely the Devil and easily caved into temptation. But it was a part of him. The part of him that healed. And not just those around him. Not just a detective with a tumor or a girl bleeding from her chest._

_It healed him. It protected and cared about him._

_He remembered the one moment that the light had left, the cold that followed and, more importantly, the brother. It’d saved him when he didn’t want to be saved, couldn’t be saved, and eventually resulted in him being saved. This star, this part of him freed him when he’d almost crumbled from the weight of his own sins._

_It couldn’t banish all the darkness, but it definitely tried, holding it back as fiercely as Father’s own will. And it was time to take it back completely. Time to start a new journey._

*

Lucifer flipped on the light in the apartment, humming as he casually walked into Chloe’s home. His home, he corrected. She’d even given him a key, despite admitting it was pointless. He stood on the threshold and studied the place before him.

This wasn’t his first time here, but it was the first time by himself as a resident. Small items of his had started to make their way into the home. Alcohol, outfits, accessories. He didn’t have much, not that wouldn’t clash with the homey decor, but enough to be able to stake his claim. And he planned on it. Because he didn’t plan on going anywhere anymore.

Because this was where he belonged.


End file.
